A Particularly Vivid Dream
by kkalmm
Summary: An overworked mum, a film star, an embarrassing Skype conversation overheard, an overnight flight home… AU/AH/OOC.
1. Esme

**A particularly Vivid Dream b****y Kkalmm**

_A Twilight Fanfiction Story._

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight are the property of Stephanie Meyer. Everything else is mine. Nothing may be copied without the express permission of the owner. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Rating: NC-17 for sex and language. If you don't like, don't read. You have been warned!  
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**Thank you to CharliDenae who Beta'd this one for me. :o)**

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><p><strong>Esme's POV<strong>

The room was nearly empty, much to my relief. Two businessmen nursed coffees with the blank-eyed stares of weary travellers, their nondescript hand luggage parked at their feet, like well behaved dogs sitting at their master's heel. I doubted I looked much better as I dragged my own small case across the lounge. It made a squeaking sound as one wheel had given up, and partially melted on the axel, after all the miles I had dragged it over the last two weeks. One more flight, then home, and then I could bin the damn thing.

I put my heavy rucksack carefully onto the floor and sank gratefully into a comfy padded chair, sighing deeply. I kicked off my heels, stretching my feet out and massaging my toes. That was the trouble with travelling light, what you gained by missing out on baggage reclaim, you paid for in other ways. I hadn't packed a comfortable change of shoes, an oversight I wouldn't be making again. Some airports, Amsterdam sprang painfully to mind, had directions to the departure gates with helpful estimates of walking time to reach them. Why did my gate have to be forty-five minutes from the lounge? And that included using the moving walk-ways. No wonder my case had died, my feet certainly had after that one.

I pulled my laptop out my rucksack and opened it on the little round table next to my chair. I hit the power button to start it booting before I wandered, in stockinged feet, over to get a much needed hot drink. I was glad that my company still flew us business class if we were to be in the air more than eight hours. For me it wasn't because of the bigger seats, but because of the quiet lounges, free Wi-Fi, hot drinks and priority boarding. I padded quietly back to my table clutching a hot chocolate. If I was to have any hope of sleeping on the plane, big seats or not, I thought I'd best avoid caffeine.

The stupid machine was still whirring away to itself when I sat down again. I needed to give the damn thing back to the I.T. department so they could do their stuff, _again_. Why they didn't just give in and buy us all Macs, I don't know. The amount of time I wasted waiting for this monstrosity was unbelievable, but once it was up and going, it was normally alright. It automatically connected to the internet via Bluetooth because they had, at least, given us decent phones. Not Apples, unsurprisingly, but Nokia N8's, which I was actually quietly impressed with. I closed that connection and searched for the Wi-Fi I knew would be in the lounge. Bluetooth was fine when there were no other options, but free Wi-Fi, and free hot chocolate, couldn't be beaten.

I curled my feet underneath me in the big chair and smiled when I saw there were only five new emails. None were urgent and could all be safely ignored until I dragged myself into the office later – Today? Tomorrow? The day after that? I hadn't a clue anymore. I pulled out my ticket to check the times and saw we were due to take off _about_ seven thirty this evening and arrive _about_ midday tomorrow. With any luck I'd be curled up in my favourite chair, back in my own home, by _about_ three o'clock tomorrow afternoon, and not back in the office until the next day. All given times, I took with a large pinch of salt. They were just numbers and didn't mean anything until you were actually in the air. I glanced up at the departures screen and saw that my flight seemed to be on time at the moment, but in three hours that could all change. I answered the emails anyway, at least that would be one less job waiting for me at the office.

My computer started ringing. The annoying musical tones of an incoming Skype call were intrusively loud in the quiet lounge. I hadn't got around to changing that particular setting, and I was regretting it as the disgusted stares of the two tired businessmen bore into me from the opposite side of the room. All thoughts of that quickly left my mind when I saw who the call was from. I hurriedly rejected the call and opened an IM window.

ESMEPLATT: Mary Alice Platt, what on earth are you doing on Skype this time of night?

I typed, bashing the keys in my annoyance, as I switched instantly from tired businesswoman into mum-mode.

MADPIXIE: Don't throw a fit, Mum. Dig out your webcam, we've got some news!

The message came back instantly with a big, yellow smiley beaming at me from the screen.

ESMEPLATT: But it's nearly midnight there! Why are you still up?

I sent back, feeling frustrated at my friend Renée for not putting them all to bed. My daughter was ten and she was staying at her friend Bella's house while I'd had to travel with work. She'd had a week at Rosalie's too, and Alice thought it was a grand adventure. The three of them were virtually inseparable and one hell of a handful when they put their minds to it.

MADPIXIE: We've got to SHOW YOU! Mum, put the webcam on and ring us back. PLEASE XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I had to laugh. My little pixie was always so exuberant, even in text. I could almost see her bouncing up and down with excitement. She was the one good thing to come out of my disastrous marriage.

ESMEPLATT: Ok, but this better be good. Give me a moment.

I replied, and then bent to hoist my weighty rucksack onto the chair next to me. I pulled out a mess of cables; the little Velcro wraps that were meant to keep them tidy had burst apart, but somehow managed to hold the whole tangle securely. Why they never succeeded in doing that when I wrapped them around the individual cables, I'll never know. I grabbed the webcam and pulled carefully, teasing the lead out of the bundle. I also extracted my headset and mic. I knew just how loud Alice could get when she was excited, and I didn't want any more poison stares from the stuffed suits across the room.

I plugged it all in, turned the volume down a notch or two, put my headset on and called them back.

"MUM!" squealed Alice. I winced and turned the volume down a bit more. "Look! LOOK!" she said excitedly, and the screen filled with a white blur as a sheet of paper was thrust in front of her webcam.

"Slow down, Pixie!" I laughed. "Sort out your focus, I can't see a thing."

I heard voices and laughter as the image on the screen wheeled and blurred as the camera was picked up, aimed at a sheet of paper, and carefully focused. The words formed on the screen, blurred again, and then came back into focus.

"ALICE!" I shrieked, eliciting poison stares from the stuffed suits again, but I didn't care. "You got into the audition! Oh, my GOD. Well done!"

As I watched, two more letters joined the first. Three crisp, white letterheads with the Royal Ballet logo, filled my screen.

"All of you! Bella! Rose! That's amazing!" I was almost bouncing in my seat with excitement, no wonder Renée had given up trying to get them to bed. They'd all been invited to audition for the Royal Ballet Junior Associates. They'd all get a chance to dance in London at the Royal Ballet. The chances of getting any further than that were very small. They only took the best of the best, but as their ballet teacher had said, it was a fantastic experience just to get to dance at the audition.

A rowdy group of men entered the lounge and made a bee-line for the table immediately behind me. I was slightly annoyed, considering the room was virtually empty, but when I looked around, I realised I'd inadvertently sat next to the biggest table. I heard Bella's laugh echoing around their room and decided that in the circumstances I didn't care, I just turned the volume up and ignored the group as they sat down.

The webcam swam and the girls came back into focus.

"It's a good thing clumsiness doesn't show in the photos, isn't it!" Bella said, and the girls all collapsed into laughter again. She'd shot up recently and her long legs were the perfect image of a ballerina's, but she had no co-ordination at all. Bella had only kept up with the ballet lessons as Alice and Rose had. She didn't begrudge them their grace and enjoyed herself despite her clumsiness. She'd been a jester in the last small show they'd done. The role had been perfect for her – dancing around pretending to distract the other dancers and falling over a lot.

When they were all invited to apply for the associates program, she wasn't going to, as she knew she'd never be ballerina material. However, the first part of the application just involved photos, so we took pictures of them all anyway, and Renée had secretly sent Bella's application off. If she didn't make the cut, she wouldn't have known and been upset, but she _had_ made the cut and she was glowing, they all were. I saw in their smiles, that Alice and Rosalie were just as excited about Bella getting an audition, as she was. Just like the three musketeers – all for one and one for all.

"Mum, Renée and Phil took us out for pizza to celebrate and Charlie managed to get off early and joined us for pudding and bought us all humungous ice creams," Alice said excitedly, barely taking a breath. That explained the bouncing then – sugar hyped, over excited ten year olds!

"Renée met us at school with the letters. She went to your house to check for Alice's, then met my mum to bring mine. Now the WHOLE school knows, what with _Alice_ shrieking so much," said Rosalie sarcastically, nudging Alice who blushed deeply. "And we've got to go to London in two weeks time. Can you come?" she asked, shooting Alice a sideways glance. I'd been working too much recently.

"You just try and stop me! All meetings are now cancelled, my clients will have to reschedule, and if they have a problem with that, I'll just tell them that MY daughter and her friends are dancing at the Royal Ballet," I replied quickly. A grin spread across my face as I watched all of them jump up and down on the nearest bed.

"Sit down, you nut cases! You're making it go all blurred," I said as the screen went wild. Skype couldn't cope with their exuberance. They collapsed panting in a heap on top of each other, all trying to squeeze into the shot I was seeing. "Now, I need to think up a treat for you girls. Any ideas?" It was rash of me, and could be expensive, as both Alice and Rose loved to shop. I held my breath, and winced dramatically for effect, as the girls looked at each other to exchange ideas.

"Actually, Esme, we were jealous of the girly, lazy afternoon you had with Alice before you went away. Can we do that?" Bella asked tentatively.

My jaw dropped open and they all laughed at my expression.

"Here I was expecting to take out a second mortgage, and you just want an afternoon eating pizza and watching films?" I asked incredulously.

"Not just any films," Rosalie added quickly. "Can we watch the Twilight series, just like you did with Alice?"

I stared at Alice and gave her a cross look. "I thought that was our secret?" I said in a mock grumpy tone.

"I had to tell them! I couldn't keep THAT a secret. Please, we've all read the books now," pleaded Alice, bouncing up and down and making the image go blurred again.

"Oh, okay. If it's alright with your parents," I conceded. Bella and Alice started leaping around the bed again, I knew Renée would be fine, she was so laid back it was unbelievable.

Rosalie's parents were a different matter entirely. I watched as she squirmed uncomfortably and shot me a concerned look. I knew she'd lie and say she'd asked, and this time I'd pretend to believe her. Much as I appreciated their help, Rosalie's parents were excessively controlling. If she didn't have a few avenues of safe rebellion open to her, I worried that she'd do something dramatic. After all, how bad could it be to let her watch a twelve film when she was ten? She was far more grown up than Alice and Bella in some ways.

I mouthed, "I won't tell," to her, and she grinned.

"Can we watch all of them back-to-back? With candles and blankets, and homemade pizza, and strawberries dipped in chocolate and fizzy pretend wine?" Rosalie asked. Alice had obviously spilled everything. The others continued bouncing around. Just how much sugar had they eaten!

That had been a very lazy afternoon and I had secretly loved every minute. We'd packed our bags in the morning, my small case and laptop bag stood in the hall next to Alice's overnight bag, school bag, book bag, swimmers bag and ballet bag. It had looked like she was moving out for a month! Then we'd prepared our feast, drawn the curtains against the rain and snuggled down together for an epic, six hour, film watching session. Total decadence! The actors were very pleasing on the eye, too. I might be nearly old enough to be their mother, but I definitely enjoyed the view.

"Of course! Let's go the whole hog. You can sleep over, and we'll go out for a builder's breakfast in the morning." I actually had to mute the volume when they shrieked. How could pre-teen girls reach such a painful pitch? I put the volume up again slowly, but thankfully, their frenzy had died down.

"Now, you girls need to go to bed," I said firmly. "I'm guessing that it is actually midnight there now?"

"Not yet!" they cried as they all crashed down again and pulled their hair out of the buns they had had in for ballet. I'd lost count of the number of different places round the house I'd found heaps of hair pins and bun nets. They were the bane of my life. Every couple of weeks we had to search them all out and restock their ballet bags. With their hair curling wildly around their faces, a result of the tight buns they'd worn all afternoon, I could suddenly see the teenagers they would soon be. They looked so unexpectedly grown-up, and that image shocked me. I sat back knocking my phone and empty cup onto the floor with a crash.

"Damn!" I muttered, and the girls all sniggered as I disappeared under the table to pick them up. I heard a shocked gasp and lots more giggling, bordering on hysterical. I was so glad they were at Renée's and not mine tonight. She had the patience of a saint, but at least I was at the other end of Skype and I could turn the volume down a bit. I sat up again, catching my head on the table and knocking my own neat chignon out.

"Ow! Shit!" I swore softly, as the pins pulled and dug into my head. The girls were still laughing hysterically as I took my hair down. "It wasn't that funny. See, girls. I'm putting my hair pins away. How come you can't do the same?" I said sarcastically. They ignored me, they were still giggling madly.

"It certainly is bed time," I heard Renée's voice float in from the background, and then I saw a tray of steaming mugs placed in front of the girls. "But first, hot chocolates all round. Now sit still, I _do not_ want a visit to the hospital this evening." The girls stood up all at once and grabbed the steaming mugs carefully.

"So, Esme. Who's your favourite?" Rosalie asked as she sat down again, she had a sly expression on her face.

"Pardon?" I asked confused, as I watched them all curl up comfortably, obviously not planning on sleeping any time soon.

"Who's your favourite actor out of Twilight? We've seen all the hype even if _some of us_ haven't seen the films yet. Edward Masen? Jacob Black? Who?" she pressed. Alice and Bella giggled.

"My favourite actor from Twilight? I think that's one you'll have to answer first, Rosalie!" I laughed.

"Oh, that's easy. Emmett McCarty who plays Kellan. He's gorgeous!" Rosalie cooed, the teenager suddenly showing in her face again.

"Emmett, huh?" I said as the table behind me erupted in laughter and cheers. Rose suddenly looked bashful and shy, a look I don't think I'd ever seen on her face before. "What about you, Bella?" I asked to distract the incredulous stares Rosalie was getting from Bella and Alice.

Bella hid her face behind Alice's shoulder and I heard a muffled, "I'm not telling!"

"No contest!" Alice crowed. "We know she loves Edward Masen. He's the one that plays Robert."

"Edward," I repeated as Bella glanced at me shyly and then hid her face again. The guys behind me were getting annoying, more raucous cheering echoed around the quiet room. I was about to turn and have a word, when I saw one of the stuffed suits shooting a poison glare at them and the laughter died down.

"Alice?" I asked teasingly. She went bright red, a trick usually reserved for Bella. This time both Rosalie and Bella started cajoling her when she squirmed uncomfortably. I guess it wasn't really a conversation you wanted to have with your mother.

"Jacob," she muttered, and Bella and Rosalie whooped delightedly.

"Yeah, he's cute. Emmett, Edward and Jacob. Eh?" More laughter, and the sound of slapped high five's, rose from behind me, and more glares were shot across the room. Was there a football match on or something? I couldn't see a screen, but it sounded like someone's team kept scoring. I watched one of the stuffed suits huff exaggeratedly, pack his bag, and leave. Next time, I'd have to do the glaring.

Rosalie sat up and grinned out of the screen. "Your turn now, Esme. Spill the beans. Who do you fancy?" she asked cheekily.

"You've got me there," I laughed. "They're all cute and far too young, or married. I can't choose." I fudged.

"You've got to, we did!" Alice piped up indignantly.

"What would you do if you met them?" asked Bella at almost the same time.

"I can't choose! My little pixie, they're closer to you in age than me. I don't see them that way," I lied though my teeth. "And _if_ I did happen to meet them, I'd smile, probably say hi, and walk off to give them a bit of space. They've got enough screaming girls running after them and pretending to faint, that I bet they're sick to the back teeth of it all." The group behind me murmured approvingly. Maybe the grumpy stuffed suit had got the message across, and the raucous laughter and cheering at each goal, was over. That was a relief.

"Okay, Esme," said Rosalie with a determined look about her. "How about we say they're all the right age and all single like you. Who would you choose then?" she asked.

I laughed. "All my age _and_ single like me? In my dreams!" I exclaimed, surprised at my admission. I realised that it _had_ been far too long since I'd spent time with a man. I'd put that part of my life on hold for Alice, and I was also extra cautious after the complete and utter bastard my ex-husband turned out to be. To be able to meet one of the Twilight actors would be a dream indeed!

"Yeah, in your dreams. They'd be wearing… What?" she pressed.

I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with my ten year old daughter and her friends. How could I answer that one and keep it PG rated? I could hardly say wearing nothing, could I?

"They'd be barefoot, in smart trousers and a partly unbuttoned, white shirt. Clean shaven, of course, as I'm not one for designer stubble," I replied, remarkably honestly. The girls giggled and nudged shoulders before looking to Rosalie to continue the interrogation.

"So, who would it be? Edward?" she asked.

"He's good looking with amazing eyes, but he's too serious and brooding for me. So no, not Edward," I replied. The guy's team behind me must have let in a goal, but at least the groan wasn't as annoying as the laughter.

"Jacob?" Bella queried.

I smiled and tried to think how to answer honestly. I couldn't get his age out of my head. The difference between him and Alice was less than half the difference between him and me. I was twice his age. "Tempting, he's amazingly fit! But no, not Jacob either." Alice grinned widely and the girls all giggled. There was another muffled groan from the group behind me – the game _had_ turned then, and not in their favour.

"Ok, Mum. How about Emmett?" Alice asked, winking at Rosalie.

"Emmett? He's huge! Seriously built, and looks great in his Calvin Klein's, but I think I'd feel too intimidated, despite the fact he's cute," I said, and Rosalie grinned triumphantly. The group behind me narrowly missed another goal. Exciting game.

"Two left, Esme. Who's it going to be? Carlisle or Jasper?" Rosalie asked teasingly.

I thought about it, it was tough decision. "Carlisle or Jasper? Do I have to choose?" I asked mildly. The girls laughed, but Alice insisted.

"Hmm, Carlisle? He actually makes a lab coat look good, doesn't he? Or, Jasper? There's something about a good southern gentleman, isn't there?" I said, smiling, as the girls cracked up again. "I definitely can't choose both?" I asked jokingly.

"NO!" they all chorused together.

I thought about the two of them, both Carlisle and Jasper really were good looking. Both looked stunning when they smiled, not that Jasper had smiled much in his role as Jackson, but I'd seen pictures of him that were drop dead gorgeous, especially with that lop-sided, one-dimpled smile. I pretended to contemplate my answer for a bit longer. It was silent, even the damn game behind me was in a lull.

"In that case, it's going to have to be… Jasper, because of his smile," I said and the girls erupted laughing. There were whoops and hollers behind me too, and the sound of someone coughing and choking. In exasperation, I turned and could have died right on the spot.

I looked straight into the red rimmed, watering, hazel-green eyes of none other than, Jasper Whitlock; actor, heart-throb, musician and this close up, absolutely fucking gorgeous. I gasped in shock as he continued to cough and splutter, pushing away the drink that had been in his hand. I looked around the table at his rowdy mates. They were all there; Edward, Emmett, Jacob and Carlisle. All laughing like it was the biggest joke in the world. I twisted back to look at my screen, the three girls had been joined by Renée and they were all in hysterics.

"You knew!" I spat at them, whipped the webcam off of the top of the screen and slammed the laptop shut. I quickly threw my stuff back in my rucksack, grabbed my shoes and case, and ran from the room. I wanted a hole to open in the ground and swallow me up. They'd stitched me up so badly I was shaking. They'd made me say all that, knowing they were all sitting right behind me! The cheers and groans made sense now, there was no football game. I was the game – me and my big mouth. So much for being the grown-up and giving them much needed space. I'd been mentally drooling over them as they sat feet away from me, and they'd overheard every word. I cringed.

I roughly wiped the tears from my face as I strode through the airport, defying anyone to comment on my tears or lack of shoes. I was in luck; airports were lonely places, full of people in their own little worlds and their gazes slid over me without lingering. I sagged quietly into one of the hard plastic seats in the busy satellite and buried my head in my hands. Looking up at the nearest departures screen, I saw that my flight was still on time. I couldn't even wait in the quiet, now that I'd been driven from the comfy lounge.

I hung my head, running my fingers through my dishevelled hair, before pulling it back into a rough ponytail. I wondered if the girls were still up, I needed to give them a piece of my mind, and if not them, then Renée. She was my friend and I loved her, but for this stunt, I'd quite happily gut her. I pulled my laptop out and perched it on my knees as it wheezed its way through the boot screens. I waited patiently for it to connect to the internet – it seemed SEA-TAC had free Wi-Fi throughout. I immediately checked for Alice, but thankfully, she wasn't online anymore, then I checked for Renée and was pleased to find her available.

I opened an instant message window and typed, still angry at the embarrassment she'd witnessed earlier.

ESMEPLATT: Renée Dwyer, I could kill you right now.

RENEEDWYER: Oh, Esme! It was so funny. I nearly wet myself I was trying so hard not to laugh. Did you really not notice?

She replied and had had the gall to attach a laughing smiley. I grit my teeth and nearly growled.

ESMEPLATT: No, Renée. I didn't notice. How was I meant to know?

RENEEDWYER: You could see them in the background. Edward even took a bow. You really didn't see that?

ESMEPLATT: I wasn't looking at ME! I had the girls full screen.

RENEEDWYER: Well, you're in luck then. You can fully re-live your torture on your return. Rosalie had the presence of mind to record your conversation. They'd only wanted to catch your expression when you found out they'd got auditions, and instead they've got all the Twilight boys winking and blowing kisses at them. I hate to say this, but you might be on YouTube by the time you get home.

ESMEPLATT: NO! You can't let them do that to me! Renée, please. Help me out here!

RENEEDWYER: Ha-ha! I told them you'd freak out. Don't worry, your humiliation is currently safe and will not be making its way onto the public domain under my watch.

ESMEPLATT: Arghh! It's a good thing you're thousands of miles away right now.

RENEEDWYER: You have GOT to see it. I defy you not to laugh. Do you want me to email it now?

ESMEPLATT: No! I'm not having that on my work computer, not when this is going straight to IT to be fixed as soon as I'm back in the office. Send it to my phone, I can watch it later… when I've calmed down.

RENEEDWYER: It's on its way. Oh, and I've sent a photo of the girls. They've all crashed out on the double bed in the spare room, and they look SO cute!

ESMEPLATT: Thanks, but you can't bribe forgiveness out of me that easily.

RENEEDWYER: Why on earth do I need your forgiveness?

ESMEPLATT: Because you didn't warn me. You just stood out of shot and tried not to wet yourself, if I remember right!

RENEEDWYER: Yeah, yeah! Good night. It's hellishly late now and those girls are going to be a handful tomorrow.

ESMEPLATT: Self inflicted, Sweetheart! Good night. Give my love to Phil, and give Alice an extra big hug in the morning. Tell her that if that video ends up anywhere public, she'll be grounded for the next MONTH!

RENEEDWYER: Will do! Is that photo there yet? Goodnight. xxx

I sent back one final kiss as my computer began beeping pitifully. The battery was flat. I shut it down and stuffed it unceremoniously back into the rucksack, and then I rummaged though the pockets trying to find which corner my phone had slid into. Eventually I gave up and tipped the whole lot out onto the floor, putting it back a bit at a time. Just great! My phone wasn't there and that meant it had to be in the lounge. I groaned.

I couldn't face going back, so I'd have to ring it and ask whoever found it, to hand it in at the airline's desk, or bring it to the gate. Then I realised, that if the phone rang, then the people most likely to find it and answer, would be the very ones I was currently hiding from. Not good, but survivable if I could get the airport staff to speak to them instead. I wouldn't have to see them, and I could carry on my life as if I hadn't just made a prize fool of myself. I sighed and made my way to the information desk.

"How may I help you?" a cheery woman asked, and I explained my predicament. She willingly rang my phone and I waited as she chatted brightly to whoever had found it. When she hung up, she came back over to me.

"A nice young man by the name of, Jasper, found it and said he would drop it off at your gate. It's not up on the departures board yet, but you'll be boarding from gate S 10 if you want to wait there," she told me brightly. I thanked her and wound my way slowly through the crowd.

Just my luck. What were the chances of there being two Jaspers in the business lounge at the same time, and within easy reach of my phone? Hopefully, I wouldn't have to face him when he returned it. After that little fiasco, I'd probably be as tongue-tied as a teenager and equally as jittery. As I trudged towards the departure gate, my stomach suddenly dropped. I remembered what was on the screen of my phone, what I'd been reading in the taxi over here. I groaned and prayed to whatever god might be listening, for him not to notice and read it. Fanfiction, my one small indulgence, and it was currently on a very racy Jasper fic. All he had to do was unlock the phone and it would be right there. Bugger!

Time seemed to drag. With my phone missing and my computer flat, I had to resort to the bookshops. I took my time choosing a paperback and then slumped, uncomfortably, in a plastic chair where I could watch gate S 10 in the distance. It was quiet at the moment and I didn't want to stand out if my phone was brought back early. I read, nursing a hot chocolate I'd had to pay for, and kept half an eye on the gate. Finally, I got caught up in the story and disappeared completely into the fantasy world.

"The flight for London Heathrow is now boarding at gate S 10." The tinny announcement dragged me from my book and I gathered my belongings quickly. I wanted to get on board and get out of here as quickly as possible. Sending a silent thank-you to my boss, I cut in ahead of the waiting crowds and handed over my business class ticket. My phone hadn't been handed in yet, but they'd been assured it would be, and that they would bring it to me when it was.

I was ushered upstairs and shown my seat. There was only one other traveller so far, and he was on the opposite side. I stowed my bags, tucked my book into the seat pocket and sank down, kicking off my shoes. The complementary glass of wine was a welcome distraction, and I sat back, picked up my book and tried to ignore the sounds around me. Only one other traveller joined us on the top deck. It was obviously a quiet flight.

"Ms Platt?" asked an air hostess.

"Yes," I replied, and then smiled when I saw she had my phone in her hand. "Thank goodness for that, I was beginning to worry," I said gratefully as I took it from her, but choked when I unlocked the screen to see a new note prominently displayed.

"Are you alright, Ms Platt?" the air hostess asked, slightly alarmed. "Let me get you a drink," she said as she bustled off. I took the time to read the note privately, it was only one sentence, but it made my heart sink.

_Interesting reading material – most appropriate don't you think? JW_

Shit! Bugger! Bollocks! Crap! FUCK! He'd read it. I flicked back to the story and then realised why he'd said it was appropriate; Jasper and his leading lady, Maria, were going at it on a private jet! One of the Mile High contest entries. I'd never be able to see him in anything again without cringing, and if he ever saw me again, I think I would just curl up and die.

I had my head in my hands when the air hostess returned.

"Here you go. Are you feeling better? Can I get you anything?" she asked concerned. I shook my head and smiled weakly as I took the glass. I sipped the water carefully as my hands were shaking. "You don't look sure," she said as she crouched by my seat.

"I'll be fine," I assured her. "I've just had a bit of a shock."

"I'm not meant to, but would you like another glass of wine?" she asked conspiratorially under her breath. That was just what I needed, so I smiled back and she disappeared off. The second glass certainly calmed me down, but it made me feel slightly tipsy. I hadn't eaten lunch and had only had two hot chocolates since breakfast, and they didn't act as much of a buffer for the alcohol.

I looked at the phone in my hand and decided to download the rest of the story so I could finish reading it later. I still felt bad, but the alcohol had eased my embarrassment to some extent. After all, I had my phone back now, the plane would shortly be taxiing up the runway and I would be heading back to England. The chances of ever seeing him again, on anything other than the big screen, were zero.

I checked my messages and smiled at the image of the girls – in a rough heap in the spare bed, hair splayed out, they suddenly looked very young again. I downloaded the story, put my phone into flight mode and then settled down to read. By the time the meal was served I was feeling more than a little hot under the collar. Having been, momentarily, so close to the real thing, it made the images that formed in my mind even more vivid.

The memory of his hazel-green eyes reached right inside me and wrenched the pit of my stomach in a way I hadn't felt in years. My shoulder had nearly been touching his. I'd felt his breath on my cheek, seen every strand of his sandy blond hair as it had hung around his face and brushed against the dark cotton of his shirt. He'd been close enough for me to reach my hand out and run the tips of my fingers over his face and lips, and to touch the slight stubble on his chin. I gasped at the audacity of my thoughts. What had come over me? I was nearly forty, not fourteen! Yes, admittedly I _had_ been close enough to do those things, but instead I'd run away.

Not long after the meal, the cabin lights were dimmed, and I settled back to watch a film. It was a lame comedy that failed to capture my interest and I soon fell asleep. My dreams were filled with hazel-green eyes and all too much hot, naked flesh. I awoke with a groan, disorientated, and looked around the darkened cabin with relief. If it hadn't been almost empty, I would have embarrassed myself badly for the second time in hours. I pulled the rough ponytail out my hair, it was uncomfortable to sleep in, and had nearly fallen out anyway, and then padded quietly to the nearest loo.

I sleepily grabbed the door, only to find it locked. I turned to go to the others at the opposite end of the cabin, but heard the bolt shoot back and decided to wait as the door opened. I mumbled a quick apology, barely taking in the man who walked out.

"My pleasure, ma'am," an all too familiar voice drawled.

My head shot up and met _those_ eyes. My mind reeled, my stomach lurched, and I lost the ability to speak. My earlier embarrassment was multiplied no end by the dreams I'd so recently woken from.

"Fuck! Sorry!" I garbled and then stepped quickly round him into the toilet, slamming the door a bit too hard and shooting the bolt. Way to go, Esme!

I groaned – a mixture of desperate desire and mortified horror. What had I just said? I splashed cold water over my face, and then remembered why I'd come to the loo in the first place. When I finished, I washed my face a second time, trying to calm the turmoil inside me. So much for not seeing him again. I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to tame the wild curls a bit. It was a wasted effort, I'd put my hair up damp and it had dried crazy, I was stuck with it until I could wash it again. I listened carefully at the door, hoping he'd be long gone, before pulling the bolt back quietly and stepping out into the darkened cabin.

"Are you alright? I heard you groan," he said softly, and I stopped with my back to the door. Oh, this could _not_ be happening. Would this torture never end?

"Fine," I mumbled staring at his feet. His bare feet! I couldn't stand it a moment longer and went to push past him back to the scant refuge of my seat.

"Wait," he said suddenly, grabbing my arm and stopping my escape.

My breath caught in my throat as the heat of his skin blazed through my thin shirt. I gasped and froze on the spot. He let go of my arm quickly, as if embarrassed by his actions. My breath was ragged as I waited for him to speak again. I was incapable of forming a coherent thought, let alone actual words.

But he didn't speak, instead he moved silently around me until he was facing me. The searing touch of his fingers on my chin startled me, as he very slowly lifted my face up over his body. Bare feet, smart trousers and a white, partially unbuttoned, shirt. I bit my lip to suppress the moan that was building. Had he changed? He moved and the fabric of his shirt lifted slightly away from his body revealing the tattoo just above the waist of his trousers.

_I'm lost…_

Oh, God. I was lost, absolutely beyond hope.

He continued lifting my face up over his chest, and past his broad shoulders, onto his small, lop-sided smile. I realised I was holding my breath when it all shot out of me at the sight of his smooth and freshly shaven jaw. Who the hell shaved before getting on an overnight flight! Oh, the places I wanted him to rub those smooth cheeks! I pulled my face away from him before I met his gaze, afraid he'd see that thought in my eyes. He waited a moment, and then gently turned my face back to his. Beautiful hazel-green eyes captured mine. I couldn't have moved even if I'd wanted too, trapped like a rabbit in headlights.

"Beautiful," he breathed as he stared right back into my pale blue eyes. His pupils were blown in the subdued light. I bit my lip again in an intense effort not to say or do anything else I'd regret, but he was so close. I could smell shaving foam and soap, a hint of mint toothpaste and tang of something alcoholic, plus something that could only have been purely Jasper. I drew in a deep breath though my nose, trying to absorb the scent of him. He leant slowly towards me, his eyes partially closing as he bent down. I tried to break from his gaze, but his hand slid up my face, cupping my cheek, unintentionally stilling my movement.

"Please don't run," he whispered, so close I could feel his breath on my lips. I was shaking under his hand. He waited again, as if giving me the chance to flee. When his lips brushed mine, my body caught fire, the intensity of that moment brought me right to the edge and I moaned against his mouth. His other hand laced into my hair as he kissed me softly again, stealing my breath and leaving me trembling. I hadn't even touched him yet, too afraid that this couldn't be real, that it was all just a particularly vivid dream.

Both of his hands cradled my face, and his own short breaths trailed over my skin as he ran his nose down my cheek, and then up against my nose. My body shuddered at his touch. I stood rigid in his hands, unable to believe it was actually happening. Maybe it wasn't, maybe it _was_ just a dream?

He kissed me again, nipping my bottom lip between his own. I opened my mouth slightly and he deepened the kiss, brushing his tongue against my lips, teasing the tip of it into my mouth, coaxing my tongue into curling around his. It had to be a dream, there was no other explanation. He'd been in jeans and a dark shirt earlier, not dressed as he was now, straight from my imagination, and clean shaven. If it was a dream, then I was damn well going to enjoy it.

My body seemed to melt, the shock that had frozen it was obliterated by the heat of the passion that rose in me. I clutched my hands to his sides, sliding them under the thin cloth of his shirt and pulled his body into mine. I stood on my toes, pushing back into his kiss, as his breath caught at my touch. The previously slow-motion world sped up intensely, and in moments I was crushed into his arms. I ran my hands up his back and pressed my nails into his shoulders.

He broke the kiss and looked at me with a desperate hunger that made my knees go weak. Fumbling with the door behind me, he lifted me effortlessly and we staggered inside the small compartment. Definitely a dream, I decided. He locked the door behind us as he eased me to my feet in the confined space. I barely suppressed the groan of pleasure as he trailed kisses down my neck, easing my head back so he could continue the burning trail along my collar bone. He stopped, breathing heavily, over the hollow at the base of my throat. His hot breath sent shivers down my spine.

His body tensed and he lifted concerned eyes to my own. "Sorry, I –"

I shook my head and moved to place my fingers on his lips, this was my dream, and no attacks of conscience would be allowed. I lifted my fingers from his lips, and his eyes turned questioning. I let the full force of my desire take over me and saw his eyes widen and his smile grow. I ran the back of my hand over his cheeks, enjoying the sensation. Even against the grain, my flesh slid smoothly without scratching. I swear I nearly purred. Maybe I did, as he chuckled and buried his face in my neck in response. As I wound my fingers deep into his hair, he kissed and nipped his way up my neck until his breath on my ear caused my body to erupt in goose-bumps. I squirmed away from him.

"Sensitive, eh?" he growled, and tried to nip my ear. I nearly shrieked as I fought to get away, but stifled the sound by biting his shoulder. He groaned and held me still for a moment, breathless, then pulled me tight against his obvious arousal. I shimmied gently against him, causing him to smirk irresistibly. Rising up on my toes, I pulled him down towards me and melted into a passionate kiss.

Hot hands frantically tugged the hem of my shirt out the waistband of my skirt, before slowly gliding up my back, causing us both to moan passionately. I pushed away and grabbed at the remaining buttons on his shirt, desperate to remove the suddenly intrusive cloth. As the buttons came undone, I trailed my fingers over the newly exposed flesh, feeling the muscles ripple and flinch under my touch. He leant back against the door sighing and groaning softly as I kissed my way across his chest and ran my nails lightly down his sides.

My fingers reached the well defined V of muscle that led lower, ghosting over the very slightly raised texture of his tattoo. He gasped and grabbed my hands, sliding them around to his back, before releasing them and moving to undo the buttons of my shirt. All of a sudden, I was intensely glad I'd put on a pretty new bra this morning; simple, white, to go under my work shirt, with embroidered leaves leading to a deep plunge. His fingers trailed tantalisingly along the edge of the exposed fabric, and then he slipped my shirt and bra strap off one shoulder.

A shiver of anticipation ran down my back as his warm hand slid inside my bra, stroking over my taught nipple and lifting my breast clear of the fabric. Abruptly I felt self-conscious as my boobs had suffered over time, pregnancy and breastfeeding. While they were far from sagging, I was aware that the weight of them was now soft and not firm to the touch.

"Mmm, real," he murmured into my hair as he traced his thumb across my sensitive peak.

His erection twitched against my stomach and I suddenly _had_ to feel it under my hand. He caught my hand at his waistband again, so I let it drop lower and palmed his hot arousal through his trousers and cupped his tight balls.

"Not yet," he pleaded. "It's too much, I –" I silenced him with a kiss. If this was my dream, then I was going to make damn sure he lasted. The mother in me was gone, overtaken by the long neglected woman I had once been. Tonight, I needed to be well and truly fucked to within an inch of my life.

I ran my hand over him again and he moaned against my mouth. This time he didn't stop me when I unhooked the clasp on his trousers and slowly lowered the zip. His breath stopped in his chest, and his muscles went rigid, as I slid my hand under the soft cotton of his boxers and eased his hot velvet length from its uncomfortable confines. His head cracked against the door as he struggled to suppress a deep moan of pleasure. He had to grab the walls for support when my fingers traced from the very root of his erection, over his balls and up to his oozing tip.

"Oh, God," he breathed. I ducked down and licked his tip clean, before tracing back down and nuzzling his balls. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the walls. "Fuck!" he muttered, and then kept up a low hiss of expletives as I closed my lips over him and sucked him into the back of my mouth, gently stroking what I couldn't contain. I twirled my tongue around his tip and hummed with pleasure, working up and down his rock hard arousal, until his hands left the walls and tangled in my hair.

He was gasping and moaning softly, trying desperately to be quiet as he began thrusting into my mouth, matching my movements as I sucked him and twirled my tongue around his head and slit. "I'm… Uunnngh!" he gasped just before he surged under my hands. I pulled him as far as I could into my mouth and, with a low guttural moan, he thrust one last time, pushing deeply into me as his release pulsed into my mouth and down my throat.

I held him inside me until the pulses stopped and his frantic gasps settled into calmer, deeper breaths. He pulled me up and crushed me into his bare chest, the feel of his flesh against mine scorched into me.

"Thank you," he murmured and pulled me into a deep kiss, obviously not ashamed to taste himself on my lips and in my mouth. The passion of the moment built quickly again, and he ran his hand up my thigh, under my skirt, stopping as he reached the lace top of my hold-ups.

"Good God, woman. Are you trying to kill me?" he growled as he roughly pulled my skirt up over my hips and quickly lifted me onto the narrow sink. Pressing my back against the large mirror, he eased my thighs apart and stood between them, tracing his thumbs over the edge of lace where it met my sensitive skin. My muscles trembled at his touch and I pulled him closer into another deep kiss to distract him. It worked, his arms wrapped around me tightly as our bodies moulded around each other. My hands grabbed his hips, and then I ran them up to his broad shoulders. I dug my nails in deeply and began to drag them down his back. He shuddered and I stopped myself quickly, balling my hands into fists.

He broke the kiss and breathed heavily into my ear, causing me to shiver against him.

"You can. If you want to," he said cryptically. I frowned in confusion and he kissed my neck. "You can mark me, if you like," he growled, then pulled me back into a wildly passionate kiss. I unclenched my fists and self-consciously lay my hands back on his shoulders. He distracted me by running a hand down to my thigh and teasing his thumb along the lace at the edge of my knickers. They were already soaked; they had been from the first moment he'd kissed me.

He moved the lace aside with his thumb and stroked a finger over my hot, wet folds. Without conscious thought, I dug my nails back into his shoulders and he moaned against my mouth. When he pushed his finger inside me, he had to stifle my cry with a kiss. He pulled it out again then added a second. I arched against him and dragged my nails the length of his back and over his firm buttocks. I had to stifle his moan with a kiss that time, but then lost all control as he drove into me again, twisting and curling his fingers until I was whimpering and moaning against him.

"My turn now," he said huskily, as he ripped the lace of my knickers and pulled them away from my body. He slid down over me, awkward in the cramped space, and then gently rubbed his smooth cheeks over my sensitive thighs. His tongue dipped under the lace of my hold-ups, before trailing across my thigh and running up the length of my wet lips. I moaned loudly then had to bite my lip hard to suppress the sounds building in my chest. This time I was the one holding onto the walls, the door, anything I could reach, to prevent myself from collapsing on top of him as he drove me wild.

Each nip, lick and suck, drove me closer as he continued to plunge his long fingers into me. The intensity of it had my head spinning and my breath coming in short gasps and quiet mews. I was on the edge, but I couldn't let go, couldn't surrender myself totally to the sensations building in my body. No one else had ever made me feel this good. His other hand spread out across the small of my back and pulled me tight against his mouth as he sucked me hard. I rocked against him and closed my eyes as he finally pushed me over the edge. I let go with great shudders that rocked through my whole body.

He held me like that until my orgasm subsided and my breath settled into a steadier rhythm, and then he stood up between my shaking legs. I ran my fingers into his hair, down the nape of his neck and then traced a fingertip along his jaw. His hazel-green eyes sparkled mischievously. I pulled him close to me and into a gentle kiss – my taste combined with his. His hot erection pulsed against my thigh.

"Please," he breathed and crushed me tight against his body. I moaned softly – this was just getting better and better.

"Protection?" I asked equally softly. Dream or not, I wasn't a fool.

"Oh, fuck!" he groaned with a panicked look on his face. He frantically grabbed at his trousers and rummaged for his wallet. It was battered leather, moulded over time to the shape of its contents, including a giveaway circle on one side. He pulled it out triumphantly and dropped his wallet unceremoniously onto the floor. The well worn package had obviously been there for some time, and he surreptitiously checked it for damage. With a sigh of relief, he ripped open the foil and discarded it, and then quickly unrolled the condom over his glorious length.

"Sure?" he asked tentatively. Waiting poised at my entrance.

"Shut up and fuck me!" I growled softly, dug my nails into his flesh and pulled him firmly into me. I tried so hard not to groan aloud, but feelings overwhelmed me and silent tears ran down my cheeks. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been made to feel this good, if I'd _ever_ been made to feel this good. Gentleness had soon turned into pain and humiliation with my husband, and the occasional self-conscious fumblings I'd had since, had left me unsatisfied.

I was in heaven. I was dreaming. I was dying and being reborn – there could be no other explanation.

He kissed my tears away and gently moved inside me. I whimpered against his shoulder and slid my hands around his buttocks. When he next pulled out, I slammed him back into me, giving in to the demands of the starving animal that had been awakened inside me. His muscles bunched and strained under my grasp as he pounded into me. Burying my face in his neck, I muffled my sounds and inhaled his scent.

He plunged in deeply and stopped there, pressed against my throbbing centre of pleasure. "I need –" he gasped out. "I need to see you. Turn around!" he said frantically.

He pulled out, lifted me off the sink and turned me so I faced the mirror. He looked over my shoulder and met my shocked eyes in the glass. Sliding his nose down my neck, he kissed my exposed shoulder. His hand slid down the inside of my thigh to my knee and he lifted it high before driving himself back into me. Shutting my eyes, I pressed my head back into his shoulder, giving in to the pleasure and gasping at the intensity of it.

"Open your eyes," he breathed into my ear. With immense effort I obeyed him and saw him behind me. His hooded eyes, dark with desire, bore into mine and touched my core. The image in the mirror was totally erotic, so far beyond wanton that my body reacted to the obvious hunger we exuded. The reflection in front of me seared itself into my brain. I shut my eyes but it remained, taunting me.

Passion. Desire. Hot, sweaty flesh. Damp, blonde curls. Pure animal lust in hazel-green eyes.

I grabbed his hand, the one not supporting me, and held it tightly over my mouth as I cried out into it. Hoping his hand would muffle the sounds he drew out of me. I heard him groan against my ear and he pulled me tighter as I lost control of my voice.

"Rub yourself," he moaned against me. "Look at me and rub yourself."

I met his eyes again as I released the fingers that were clenched so tightly onto his hand. Sliding them down my body until I could feel him entering me. I let them trail there for a few moments as he thrust, his breath caught and he gasped.

"Oh, God! You, not me," he pleaded. I could feel his legs beginning to shake as I moved my touch away from him.

I moaned into his palm and struggled to keep my eyes on his as the combined movement became my undoing. My legs gave way and my weight collapsed into his arms. His guttural cry of pleasure as I milked him, was stifled against my shoulder. His hot, wet mouth pressed against my flesh as he thrust wildly a few more times. When he came, shuddering and straining against me, he bit down, hard, in his effort not to cry out. My scream of pleasure and pain was smothered by his hand.

He collapsed back onto the closed toilet, pulling me with him so that he remained buried deep inside. I held his knees tightly, trying to remain upright as I shook from my release and the best damn fucking I'd ever had in my life. His head rested between my shoulders and I could feel his body shuddering beneath mine.

I was incapable of speech. I was incapable of moving. I just sat there, impaled on him, with my head hanging. Spent. Replete.

After the longest time, I struggled to my feet, avoiding the reflection in the mirror. His soft hand rubbed against my thigh and he rested his head on my back. "Thank you," he murmured against my skin.

I ran warm water into the small sink and washed my face and sweaty body quickly with a paper towel. He had to move when I washed the juices from my legs, and my flesh felt suddenly cold at his absence. Maybe, if I didn't look and find him gone, it would all remain a dream.

I buttoned my shirt, straightened my skirt, and ran my fingers through my dishevelled hair. I looked a mess, like I'd just been totally fucked. His soft chuckle behind me, startled me, and he whispered into my hair, "Beautiful." Who was he kidding?

I bent to retrieve the crumpled lace of my knickers and found the red fabric torn and shredded. I balled it up to put into the bin, but his warm hand stilled mine, took the crumpled fabric and thrust it into his pocket.

"Just so I know it was real," he explained quietly.

"Oh, but it's not," I laughed softly, catching his eyes in the mirror. "There's no way this could be anything but a particularly amazing and vivid dream. Thank you, Jasper. That was breathtaking."

I turned and kissed him once more. "I will be dreaming of you again," I said, suddenly almost in tears, and then slipped out of the toilet and into the dark cabin. Sinking back into my seat, I pulled the flimsy blanket over me and fastened the buckle around my waist. Sleep quickly overtook me. I didn't hear the door, or anyone pass by, how could I if there was no one there?

The clatter of crockery woke me, to find the cabin bright and sun streaming in through the small windows. I sighed contentedly and eased the seat back upright. The air hostess gave me a wide smile and came over with the menu.

"Sleep well?" she asked with the barest hint of a smirk. I looked again, but all that remained was the professional mask. I chose breakfast from the menu and settled back to read a bit more of my book. Breakfast service was finished abruptly when the captain announced that, due to a strong tail wind, we would be landing early and were now beginning our decent into London Heathrow.

I gathered my belongings and packed my bags, ready for a quick get-away. If I timed it right, there would be little, if any, queue at passport control and after that, I was free. With no bags to reclaim, I could be out of the airport and on my way home, before half the people on the plane had found which carrousel to wait at, morosely, for their cases to arrive.

My plan worked and I joined the short queue at passport control ahead of the rest of the plane. I kept my head bowed as I heard laughter from the group that had just entered the hall. I couldn't resist a quick peek and saw that they all stood there, the Twilight guys, surrounded by minders, as passports were sorted out and the longest, non-EU, queue joined.

Jasper caught my eye and I quickly looked away. I was sure he was only looking because I'd embarrassed myself yesterday in the lounge, but the memory of my dream was fresh in my mind, and I had to fight the urge to look back over my shoulder again.

"Next please!"

I breathed a sigh of relief, moved forward, and was gone.

My driver met me at arrivals and led me to the waiting car, where I threw my bag into the back seat and shot just one final glance over my shoulder. I could hear frenzied screaming in the distance – they'd made it to arrivals then. I sat down and shut the door, cutting off the sound.

When I put my phone back into normal mode, it beeped its way through all my incoming messages. Three from Renée; one sort of apologising, one asking when I was due home, and one with a link to a Jasper fan club – bitch!. Plus two emails from work and one from a number I didn't recognise.

"It WAS real."

I put that one down to a crank, or a misplaced digit, and deleted it before going back to answer Renée's messages and the work emails. I stared out the window as the familiar landmarks slipped by, then pulled my book from my bag.

When we drew up at my house two hours later, I stepped through the front door wearily, dropped my case and rucksack, kicked my shoes into the corner, and trudged upstairs. I flicked the shower on and undressed as the bathroom filled with steam. What had happened to my knickers? The hot water eased my aching body, but my shoulder was stiff from carrying my heavy bag. I rinsed the thick suds away and ran my fingers over the sore muscle.

There was something there.

I had to sit down I was shaking so badly. I staggered out of the shower and sank onto the closed toilet seat. With my towel, I reached out and rubbed a circle on the mirror, clearing the steam. I waited so long, unable to make myself move, that it had steamed up again and I had to wipe it a second time, before I turned my back and looked at my shoulder in the mirror.

Two perfect, raised semicircles centred a slight bruise.

Teeth marks.


	2. Jasper

**A particularly Vivid Dream by Kkalmm**

_A Twilight Fanfiction Story._

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight are the property of Stephanie Meyer. Everything else is mine. Nothing may be copied without the express permission of the owner. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Rating: NC-17 for sex and language. If you don't like, don't read. You have been warned!**

**Thank you to CharliDenae who Beta'd this one for me. :o)**

* * *

><p><strong>Jasper's POV<strong>

Pushing my sunglasses back up my nose, I stole a quick look around me. The south satellite was crowded, but so far I hadn't been noticed. The hat covering my hair, and the sunglasses over my eyes, gave me a small measure of anonymity. I focused on my destination, and strode purposefully towards the stairs, with my battered carry-on clutched tightly in my hand. I raced up, two at a time, and slipped through the door. As it shut behind me, silence descended. There were three other people in the room; two men reading papers, and a woman, on her computer, curled up in her seat like a cat. None of them had given me more than a cursory glance on my entrance.

Emmett eased though the door and shot me a wide grin, and then it swung open again as Carlisle came in.

"Three down, two to go," he said before moving off towards the drinks.

It was always a battle to get into an airport unnoticed. If we could, it meant we had a reasonably calm wait until we boarded the plane. If not, it was a scream-fest. We never got out of airports unscathed. Our presence on the flight, and the time and place it was due to land, always got leaked. So, we were used to facing the multitude of fans, and the paparazzi, as soon as we stepped though the arrivals gate. All part of the job.

"ALICE! You got into the audition? Oh, my GOD. Well done!" The loud voice made me jump, and I saw the woman on the computer leaning towards her screen as if trying to make something out. The men in suits stared at her for disturbing the quiet. "All of you! Bella! Rose! That's amazing!" she said excitedly into the quiet room.

Emmett opened the door a notch and peered down the stairs to the crowd below. "They've nearly made it," he said cheerfully, then quickly swung the door open to let Edward and then Jacob in. "Yeah!" he crowed and slapped them both high fives. It wasn't often we got those two into the lounge without being noticed. Dragging our motley collection of bags we headed for the largest table, chatting and laughing about our luck today. The girls, our co-stars, were flying in separately, as they'd had a photo-shoot to squeeze in before they left.

As we sank down into the chairs, I pulled my itchy hat off, and ran my fingers through my trademark curls. Various hats and sunglasses were thrown onto the table as we shed our disguises. We weren't allowed to cut or change our hair until the contract was complete. I'd already decided to go for something drastic, a bit like Emma Watson did, once she'd finally finished playing Hermione. At least I only had one more film. She'd had to keep her hair, in more or less the same style, for over ten years! No wonder she cut it all off the moment the films were wrapped up.

Carlisle came back with a tray of coffees for all of us. You could tell he was a dad and used to organising and looking after people. The poor guy had suddenly inherited four grown sons. In everyone's eyes we _were_ his kids, even he treated us as his own sometimes. There was a free-for-all for the milk and sugar as he sat down muttering something about kids. Emmett and Jacob were horsing around, it was always about strength between those two, and I couldn't help but smile as I grabbed my coffee from the scrum.

"You just try and stop me! All meetings are now cancelled, my clients will have to reschedule, and if they have a problem with that, I'll just tell them that MY daughter, and her friends, are dancing at the Royal Ballet," the woman behind me said proudly. I sipped my coffee and silently toasted their success. I thought my job was hard, but ballerinas – that job nearly killed.

I had to take a peek, who could resist a woman in a tutu? There was something about legs that went on for miles. I leant back and glanced out the corner of my eye, but all I could see was a screen full of blurred mayhem.

"Sit down, you nut-cases! You're making it go all blurred," the woman said, sounding exasperated. "Now, I need to think up a treat for you girls. Any ideas?"

I sighed – not grown-up ballerinas then. I tuned out their conversation and sat up as Emmett threw a screwed up sugar wrapper at me to get my attention.

"So, you gigging while we're in London?" he asked.

"Naw," I replied. "It's a pretty quick visit this time, isn't it? A couple a days, a week, max."

"Guess so. Maybe if we come back for longer. There was talk about a possible modelling gig with some designer label, but it's all hush, hush, at the moment."

"Maybe. You got anythin' lined up?" I asked.

"Hell yeah! I've got a modelling gig while I'm there. It's all fitted in nicely," he said, laughing.

"Yeah? Any excuse to take your clothes off, eh, Em? Fitting it all into a nice pair of Calvin's, I hear," Edward added from the other side of the table, smirking.

Jacob punched Emmett's shoulder, as he started pelting Edward with sugar packets. I just sat there laughing as Carlisle tried to rein them in. It was a lost cause.

There was a massive crash from behind me and a loud expletive. I looked over in time to see the woman ducking under the table, and then looked up slightly to see three very beautiful teenagers staring wide eyed out of the screen at me. I gave them a wink, and put my finger to my lips in a silent plea not to tell. The small, dark haired girl in the middle slapped her hand over her mouth and tried very hard not to scream. The other two were still gawking at me.

"Oh, sweet," said Emmett quietly, as he looked over my shoulder, and then he blew them a kiss. I swear the blonde nearly wet herself. The others crowded close and smiled at the giggling girls. As the woman started to sit up, she cracked her head hard on the table, swearing quietly again. We all turned away quickly, so as not to get caught. I wondered how long the girls would be able to keep it secret, before asking the woman to get our autographs.

"It wasn't that funny. See, girls. I'm putting my hair pins away. How come you can't do the same?" she asked, annoyed, and then settled back into her chair and flicked her long hair out. She'd taken it down; the subtle scent wafted over me, and the ends trailed against my arm. I realised how close she was and found myself sitting forward to compensate. Not because she was unknowingly invading my space, but strangely, because I felt I was invading hers.

"Pardon?" she said, slightly shocked, and for a moment I thought our gig was up and we'd have to smile at the camera and sign things. "My favourite actor from Twilight? I think that's one you'll have to answer first, Rosalie!" she laughed. We all froze, and I fought the urge to look at the screen. She was being played by the girls, they hadn't told her. Did I stop it? Or let it run?

"Emmett, huh?" she said appreciatively. Emmett whooped, and everyone laughed at his reaction as he slapped a high five with Edward, then blew a kiss at the screen from behind the woman's head. I stole a glance at the screen and saw the blonde blushing furiously. I was amazed the woman hadn't looked around. The businessmen flicked us an annoyed glance, but quickly went back to their paper.

"What about you, Bella?" she asked. Jacob sat forward excitedly waiting to hear the answer and Carlisle shook his head in disbelief.

"Edward," came the quiet answer. Jacob sat back disappointed. We had to laugh at the kicked puppy look in his eyes. Edward took a bow, and blew a kiss at the embarrassed teenager. The woman still didn't turn, but one businessman was looking daggers at us and we quietened quickly.

"Alice?" the woman teased. Jacob sat forward again. You couldn't keep him down for long. We all waited to find out who the little dark-haired girl liked best.

"Yeah, he's cute. Emmett, Edward and Jacob. Eh?"

Jacob leapt up and cheered, as if his team had scored at football or something. He slapped high fives with Emmett and Edward, and shot a kiss at the screen. The businessman had had enough. He stared viciously at us, and pointedly packed his things to leave. I couldn't believe we weren't busted after that racket.

"You've got me there. They're all cute and far too young, or married. I can't choose," the woman said and laughed. Part of me felt that this had gone too far, but I couldn't complain, as I'd kind of started it. Now, I was as curious as the rest of them to find out who she'd choose. Maybe an apology, and a stack of signed somethings, would ease the moment of discovery.

"I can't choose! My little pixie, they're closer to you in age than me. I don't see them that way." Carlisle's eyebrows rose, as if he realised he probably more closely matched her in age than we did. The girls looked early teens at the oldest, which put her at mid to late thirties.

"And IF I did happen to meet them, I'd smile, probably say, hi, and walk off to give them a bit of space. They've got enough screaming girls running after them and pretending to faint, that I bet they're sick to the back teeth of it all." My breath huffed out. She'd hit the nail on the head there. I loved the fans to bits, they were amazing, but there were always some that pushed it just too far. I wasn't the only one to murmur approval at her sentiments.

There was a wonderfully exuberant laugh from behind me. "All my age _and_ single like me? In my dreams!"

Carlisle caught my eye and I grinned back, single like her? The playing field had been levelled. Jacob leant forward and quietly whispered over the table, "Age is just a number, baby!" Too damn right, I thought. I wanted to win. It was totally a man thing – ego massage and all that. But she smelt amazing, and I thought it would be pleasant to chat with someone who wasn't screaming as we waited for our flights.

I listened as she sighed. "They'd be barefoot, in smart trousers and a partly unbuttoned, white shirt. Clean shaven of course, as I'm not one for designer stubble," she said softly, almost dreamily. I looked around the table and no-one fitted that description. Well worn jeans, sweats or t-shirts, and not one of us had shaved for a few days. The truth was; we all looked pretty rough. A lot of girls went for rough, but this woman obviously didn't. I wondered where she imagined our clean shaven cheeks being rubbed.

Whoa! Where had that thought come from? I hadn't even seen her face, not when I was paying any attention to it anyway. Why was I getting so worked up?

"No, not Edward. He's good looking with amazing eyes, but he's too serious and brooding for me."

My heart leapt, Edward slumped, and we let out a collective groan. Carlisle ruffled his hair in a very fatherly manner, and then completely blew the image with his next quiet words. "You can't have both the mother and the daughter. You've got to give your elders a chance!" Edward went to punch him, but missed.

"Tempting, he's amazingly fit, but no, not Jacob either." Another groan this time, but Jacob just flexed the muscles on his 'amazingly fit' body, and smirked at Carlisle. None of us could match him, and we weren't too shabby in the abs department.

"Emmett? He's huge! Seriously built, and looks great in Calvin Klein's, but I think I'd feel too intimidated, despite the fact he's cute."

That was so close! We laughed at the hopeful look on Emmett's face, and groaned when he wasn't chosen either. I looked over at Carlisle, and he looked like the cat that got the cream. It wasn't over yet. There were still two to choose from.

He toasted me with his coffee. "May the best man win!"

"Carlisle or Jasper? Do I have to choose?" she asked in a tone of voice that did something to me. I let my breath out long and slow as I caught Carlisle's eye. From the look on his face, he seemed to quite like the idea. Shit, that woman was hot!

"Hmm, Carlisle? He actually makes a lab coat look good, doesn't he? Or Jasper? There's something about a good southern gentleman in a uniform," she said in that same voice, the one that went straight to my jeans.

"I definitely can't choose both?" she asked.

Nice idea, but no, I didn't want to share – hypothetically speaking. There was no way we could actually be with her. This was just a competition of egos, and Carlisle looked like he thought he'd already won. I sat back and sipped my coffee, trying to stare him out.

"In that case it's going to have to be… Jasper, because of his smile."

The answer was exactly what I wanted to hear, but the timing was awful. I gasped, inhaled half my mouthful of coffee, coughed, shot the rest straight back up my nose, and ended up watery-eyed and gasping for breath as the others cheered and whooped. Carlisle had the affront to look shocked. I kept coughing, fighting to get my breath back.

Then she turned.

Amazing blue eyes full of annoyance met mine, and I watched as the emotions shifted across them. Recognition, a flash of desire that took the remainder of my breath away, then shock, understanding, embarrassment and humiliation. I pushed my coffee away from me. I still couldn't breathe, let alone speak, and I was desperate to apologise and explain.

She looked around the table, taking in the faces that were still laughing at my expense, and then she whipped back to her computer screen. The three girls and another woman were obviously in hysterics. "You knew!" she snapped at them, slammed the computer shut, shoved it in her bag, grabbed her belongings, and literally fled the room without a backwards glance.

"FUCK!" I finally managed to force out between coughs.

That hadn't gone as planned at all. Jacob passed me a handful of napkins and I wiped my streaming eyes. The cough was beginning to calm, but my heart was still racing. I'd always been good at reading people's emotions, and the two that stayed with me were such polar opposites that it almost physically hurt to think I was the cause. The fleeting glimpse of desire, along with the memory of her voice, left me aroused, but it was followed by such deep humiliation that she'd been driven from the room by our presence, and that made me feel like a total shit.

"Sorry, Jazz, but you were so funny. I didn't think she'd run," Emmett said when he realised I didn't find it as funny as he did. "Do you want me to go after her?" he asked cautiously. It was a stupid offer, but I appreciated the sentiment.

"Are you mad? You'll never find her, and you'll get eaten alive out there!" Jacob spluttered. Emmett shrugged. He had a point.

"_If_ we see her, we'll apologise and give her some stuff for the girls. What's done is done; we can't take it back now." Carlisle said diplomatically. He turned to me and delivered a large slap on my back which sorted out the last of my cough. "What did you do? Slip her some of your voodoo?" he asked jokingly. In the film, not only could I pick up emotions easily, I could manipulate them too. If only life was that easy, I could have stopped her from running away. I shot Carlisle the withering looked he deserved.

"Can't stand being beaten, old man?" I asked.

"Burn!" jeered Jacob, and laughter returned to our table.

The other businessman got up and left. We'd managed to clear the room quite effectively, but at least we wouldn't be disturbed while we waited.

Discussion turned to the next week's schedule, the merits of the next shoot location, future projects, and of course girls. They were in our faces the whole time, and we were men, what else would we talk about when we had a few hours to kill? Carlisle joined in gamely for a little while, and then disappeared off to phone his wife and kids as he always did the time everyday day. We let him go without comment – you only had to see the look on his face as he spoke to them to know that it was not a matter to be joked about.

"Whose phone is that?" Edward asked, and we quietened to listen for the unfamiliar ringing. It wasn't mine, but it seemed to be coming from my bag. Confused, I picked up my bag, but the ringing continued from underneath the next chair. When I spotted the phone, I realised it must have been the woman's, and grabbed it eagerly.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively. I didn't want to scare her off immediately.

"Hello, this is Maybelle from the information desk. I do believe you've just found a phone that's been reported missing." The broadly American voice was not the one I'd hoped to hear, but then again, was it any surprise she'd got someone else to call?

"I do believe I have, ma'am. How do I go about gettin' it back to its owner?" I asked, unwilling to relinquish this particular link to the delightful stranger we'd scared from the room.

"Well, sir –" she started.

"Jasper, ma'am. The name's, Jasper," I cut in.

"Well, _Jasper_. You can drop it off at the information desk or at the boarding gate. There's just the one BA flight today, so I'm assuming you'd be on the same flight."

My face split in to a broad grin, YES!

"She's on the same flight?" I checked, and the guys chuckled and shot me suggestive looks. I scowled at them and turned my back.

"Yes, it would seem that way."

"In that case, I'll drop the phone off with staff at the boardin' gate."

"Excellent! Ya'll have a nice day."

The line cut off and I watched as the phone's screen went back to black. Why did I feel as excited as a teenage boy on his first date? What had gotten into me? I'd barely seen her and hadn't actually spoken a word to her. I remembered the cool blue of her shocked eyes, and the way they'd darkened when she'd recognised me. Her huff of breath into my face had smelt of chocolate, not the bitter edge of coffee. The soft caramel curls of her hair had hung wildly around her face, and I'd been close enough to make out the slight laughter lines that had formed around her eyes.

Intoxicating.

"Earth to Jasper?" I heard, as a sugar packet hit me on the side of my head. I grabbed it as it fell and hurled it back at Emmett. Carlisle rejoined us with a, _will you kids behave,_ kind of look on his face.

"Don't you DARE fuck this up! I won fair and square, and I WILL get to talk to her," I snarled at Emmett.

"Whoa, Cowboy!" he said with hands up in mock surrender. "Keep your chaps on!" I narrowed my eyes and damn near growled at him. His cowboy jokes had worn thin a long time ago. "I was just going to say, before you nearly take my fucking head off, that maybe we aught to sign something for the sweet girls that tricked her. They've got my respect for pulling that one!"

He waved a stack of photos at me and threw me one of the fat silver markers we normally used. I tucked the phone in my pocket and joined them back at the table where two more neat stacks of photos sat waiting for our attention. "Okay. What were their names?" Carlisle asked with his pen poised.

"Rosalie!" answered Emmett.

"Bella," said Edward softly.

"And sweet little Alice," crooned Jacob.

Carlisle laughed and muttered under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like cradle-snatchers. Emmett coughed, "old-fart." I had to laugh and Carlisle muttered again.

"Sorry, didn't catch that, Carlisle." I asked jovially.

"I said, toy-boy cowboy, kiddo. Or should that just be toy cowboy?" He said it so dead pan and seriously that he had as all cracked up. God, we were being juvenile today.

I stood, placed a pretend hat on my head, walked round the table to him in my most exaggerated cowboy swagger, tipped my pretend hat to him and answered, "Shawr thang, Gran'paw!" Before swaggering off towards the hot drinks. "Would you care for a cup of tea and a cucumber sandwich, Darlings?" I asked over my shoulder in my best attempt at oxford English. Emmett was damn near in tears he was laughing so hard. Even Carlisle's pretend stern visage cracked at that one.

I took another round of coffee and a selection of cookies back to the table and sank down into my chair. We signed the photos and tucked them away for later, and then settled into our own quiet ways of passing the time. Carlisle pulled out a paper, Edward a well worn classic book, Jacob and Emmett had some gaming thing going on. Normally I joined in, or at least took a turn, but today, curiosity got the better of me. I pulled the phone from my pocket and pressed the button on the front. I sat watching the second-hand on the displayed clock face for a long moment, and then I touched unlock. The screen filled with small text on a white background. Curious, I started to read.

…_threw her over the broad leather sofa so that her perfectly shaped ass was at my mercy. I knelt behind her and ran my hands up her back, reaching for her long dark hair. When I tangled my fingers into the silky locks I pulled her back up against my rock hard cock. "You play dirty, and that's not a nice thing to do. So, from now on I play dirty too," I growled._

"_Anything you want, you know that. Now, for God's sake, fuck me before we land," she replied huskily._

What the hell was I reading? What the hell had she been reading! For some reason I was shocked. A beautiful, shy, businesswoman and mother, was reading porn?

_I released her dark curls and pulled her skirt up over her firm ass, grabbing the smooth flesh and kneading it under my fingers, bending her forwards over the sofa again. The thin strands of her pathetic excuse for a thong ripped away easily, and I pocketed the damp scrap of fabric. I tore open the button fly of my jeans, releasing my painfully engorged erection. Imprints of the buttons were marked into my tender flesh._

_I rubbed my weeping tip against her slick folds and then over her puckered hole, eliciting moans of frustration from the wanton woman beneath me. "What's it going to be today, eh? Baby?" I asked. My voice was rough with lust._

"_If you've got lube, I don't fucking care. Just get inside me NOW!" she growled back._

I shifted uncomfortably on the chair, crossing my legs to hide the tell-tale bulge that was forming. I held the phone in one hand and had almost completely forgotten about the coffee in my other. I took a quick sip and continued reading.

_Hmm, no lube. That solved that one then. I guided my tip down over her sensitive skin until the purple head was against her wet lips. I teased just inside gently, and then slammed in deep, gasping as her heat shrouded me._

"_Oh, fuck!" I groaned out, withdrawing and watching my length emerge slick with her creamy juices. Oh, that looked good – her tender flesh stretched around my girth. I drove in again._

"_Uunnngh! GOD!" she cried and pushed back into me, shimmying on me at my deepest._

"_Call my name, baby. I wanna hear my name when you cum."_

"_Anything! Oh, JASPER!"_

What the FUCK? She was reading about ME? I was fucking solid in my jeans. An image came suddenly and unbidden to my mind, of my fingers buried in caramel curls, of my –

The phone vibrated in my hand, jarring me from my fantasy, causing me to jump and spill my scalding coffee into my aching lap.

"ARGH! Fuck!" I nearly screamed out, leaping to my feet, and dropping the coffee and the phone to the floor, as I tried to swipe the scalding liquid from my jeans. Carlisle shot up next to me – he'd played doctor enough times to know what to do.

"In the shower! Cold water, now!" he said dragging me to the lounge's shower facilities. He helped me pull the boots from my feet and then shoved me inside the shower fully dressed, detached the shower head and handed it to me, then cranked it on, full pressure, ice cold. I whimpered with relief as the pain eased.

"Ten minutes, minimum. Longer, if you can bear it. That's one place you _don't_ want to get blisters!"

"Too damn right," I muttered as the pain of the heat slowly gave way to the pain of the cold.

I lasted fifteen minutes before I couldn't stand it a moment longer. Shaking with cold, I shut off the shower and eased my soaked jeans off, surveying the damage. Everything was red; legs, thighs, my poor shrunken penis, and damn near non-existent balls – but that was due to the cold water – they'd have crawled right back inside my body if they could have. Nothing hurt, or was even tender, which I took as a very good sign.

I was not a pretty sight, standing there bare assed, in wet socks, soaked jeans in hand, still half dressed in a dripping shirt. I looked around the shower room and was relieved to see towels and my battered carry-on case. I'd learnt long ago to always carry a change or two of clothes with me, just in case my bags went via Mexico or Scotland as they'd done in the past.

By the time I'd stripped off the rest of my wet clothes, the cold of my skin had changed into tingly warmth as my circulation returned. An interesting side effect proved that no permanent damage had been done. I pulled out a favourite soft blue shirt, and was slipping it on, when I saw the white cotton in my case. I stopped, trying to remember what it was she'd said. That was it. _"…barefoot, in smart trousers and a partly unbuttoned, white shirt…"_

Was that being a little too manipulative? Dressing in the clothes she'd described as her dream?

I slipped the blue shirt off, put it back in the case, pulled out my smarter white shirt and held it up. It wasn't too formal, so I'd get away with it under a vest for now. I spotted my shaving bag and remembered what else she'd said. _"…Clean shaven of course, as I'm not one for designer stubble."_ I rubbed my chin ruefully, should I go the whole hog?

Twenty minutes later, I stepped out of the shower room clean shaven, hair washed, teeth cleaned, and dressed in smart-ish dark pants, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up a bit, my black leather vest and well worn cowboy boots. Someone had even left me a plastic bag for my soaked clothes.

"You still singing soprano, Cowboy?" Emmett asked.

"Thankfully not. A narrow escape thanks to Dr. Cullen here," I said gratefully and clapped Carlisle on the back.

"All in a day's work," he replied.

"You were in there long enough. What were you doing?" Emmett asked wickedly. He held the woman's phone in his hand, and I wondered if he'd read it, too. Who was I kidding? Of course he had. I just had to take one look at his face to know. I wondered if he'd ever let me live it down.

"What? Apart from freezing my balls off?" I replied warily.

"Good point! Here you go," he said and threw me the phone. "Remember to put your coffee down before you read any more, it just gets better and better!"

I couldn't believe I'd gotten off so lightly, and then I realised that Emmett seemed genuinely impressed by the woman's choice of reading material. Wonders never ceased!

"She's full of surprises, eh?" I said slightly proudly.

"Yeah! She chose you!" Emmett said, laughing.

I'd walked into that one. I shook my head at him in exasperation and sat down again. I didn't bother with another coffee, but I did carry on reading. Emmett smirked knowingly when I had to shuffle in my seat and cross my legs again, a short while later. They were on a plane for God's sake! How on earth was I going to keep the image of caramel curls out of my head after reading this? Especially when I knew I was going to be spending the next nine hours, overnight, on a plane with this mysterious and increasingly intoxicating woman.

I had to have this woman's number. So I dialled my phone from hers, and when mine rang, I hung up, and saved the new number to my phone. She was from England, that much I was certain of now, as the number was prefixed with the UK's dialling code. I had no idea whether I'd ever get to use the number, but at least I knew it was there, and that she hadn't completely slipped from my grasp.

"Hot, eh?" Emmett asked when he saw I'd finished reading.

"Scalding!" I replied and took the opportunity to jokingly re-adjust myself in my jeans.

"Can I read it again?" he asked eagerly. I had to laugh. He was insatiable!

"Whatever rocks your boat," I replied as I tossed the phone to him. He'd read it once already, so the damage was already done.

I stretched my legs and wandered around the room a couple of times, and then grabbed a well worn book from my bag and sat down, well away from Emmett, to read.

About quarter to seven, a stewardess strode purposefully into the lounge, rousing me from my book. "Hello, gentlemen. I wanted to let you know that your flight is preparing to board. Would you like to board now, or just before departure?"

"Just before departure, please," replied Carlisle for all of us. "The fewer people that know we're on board, the better!"

"In that case, I'll be back in half an hour to take you to your seats. Please have all your belongings, and your boarding passes and passports ready."

Everything I needed was readily at hand, so I just went back to my book. When the stewardess returned, Emmett flipped me the phone and I tucked it into my pocket. I put my hat and sunglasses on again and picked up my bag. We were led quickly through the thinning crowds and whisked efficiently onto the plane. I gave the stewardess the woman's phone and asked that she return it. I watched as she went upstairs. My last tenuous link to the mysterious woman was gone.

We filed into first class and settled into our seats. There was some shuffling as no one wanted to sleep next to Jacob or Emmett. They both snored terribly. We banished them to one side of the cabin, and Carlisle, Edward and I took the other side. We were the only passengers in first class for this flight, which was the ultimate travelling experience. We could almost pretend we were normal – well as normal as it got, travelling first.

Take off was smooth, and, as soon as the seatbelt lights went off, we all headed for the bar to get a couple of rounds of drinks in before Carlisle's enforced bedtime. He delighted in telling us it was nearly four o'clock in the morning in England, and we had to at least _try_ and get some beauty sleep.

"Hey, Jazz. I wonder if she liked your note?" Emmett asked jokingly.

"What? I didn't leave a note," I replied with a sinking feeling in my guts. One that wasn't due to the slight turbulence.

"I didn't think you would, so I left one for you," he said smugly, before gulping back some of his beer.

"Em! You bastard! What on earth did you write?" I could have throttled him! Him and his gutter-like mind.

"Hey, chill out! I just complemented her on her reading material. I wasn't rude or anything."

"Yeah? Like I believe that! The poor woman, hasn't she been embarrassed enough today?"

"I pretended I was you, my bookish cowboy."

"Reassurin', really fuckin' reassurin'," I grumbled, and wandered up to the end of first to peek through the curtains.

The downstairs business class was nearly full. A large group had congregated at their bar, cutting off access to the stairs. There was no way I'd get down there without being seen. I'd have to try later. I was determined not to leave the flight without saying sorry.

Nursing my shot of whiskey, I went back to my seat, no longer wanting to join in the banter. I read, we ate, the cabin lights dimmed, and I read some more. Eventually the sounds of chatting subsided and the tell-tale snores started up. I felt completely awake, as if I'd had a caffeine shot, but without the artificial stimulus. My brain kept running over scenarios for the conversation I was still putting off. The best being that we hit it off and I got to spend time chatting, the worst, that I got a well deserved slap in the face.

I slipped my boots off, if I was planning on sneaking though the cabin unnoticed, then cowboy boots definitely wouldn't help. I slipped my vest and socks off, too, to complete the picture she'd described. There was only one reading light on in business class, so I took the opposite aisle and kept my face turned away. I tiptoed upstairs, and scanned the seats quickly before I spotted those caramel locks that had ensnared me, trailing from a seat towards the front of the cabin.

Hesitating for a moment, I walked slowly to her seat. I'd waited too long, she was sleeping – dreaming. Fate had conspired against me again. Muttered words and a soft moan escaped her lips, and then with a sharp gasp she rolled onto her side in the reclined seat. She appeared to be waking up. I moved hastily to the nearest bathroom, to be caught staring at her as she slept, would not help at all. I figured I'd wait it out a couple of minutes, and then head back, hoping that she was either awake or fast asleep again. Awake, would be my preferred option.

The door handle rattled, startling me, so I shot the bolt back, opened the door, and stepped out without really thinking it through. There she was, my mystery woman – barely awake, squinting away from the bright light and with her hair in a wonderful wild mane around her face.

"I'm sorry," she muttered sleepily.

"My pleasure, ma'am," I replied softly, caught unawares as the moment of finally meeting was thrust upon me.

Her shocked eyes snapped to mine. They lit with that same flash of desire that had taken my breath away earlier, and then she wrenched them away from me as they filled with embarrassment.

"Fuck! Sorry!" she said in a strangled voice, stepped around me and slammed the door in my face. Way to go, Jasper!

I rested my head against the door for a moment, and heard a passionate groan that made my insides melt and my groin tighten. I pushed away from the door determined to wait, to apologise, but, in truth, it was also that some small part of me was desperate to hear that sound again. To make her, make _that_ sound again.

It felt like she was in there a long time, the anticipation made time stretch and slow down. Very quietly, I heard the lock slide back, and I watched as the door opened and she stepped out.

"Are you alright? I heard you groan," I said softly, and she stopped, frozen to the spot, staring at my feet.

"Fine," she mumbled, and then went to duck past me.

"Wait," I pleaded, grabbing her arm and stopping her escape. She went rigid under my touch, and I quickly pulled my hand away, afraid of having her misunderstand my touch. I just wanted to talk to her, but she wouldn't look at me, and I wanted to see those blue eyes when they weren't flooded with embarrassment. She studied the floor intently as I moved in front of her. With all my usual cocky assurance gone, I suddenly didn't know what to say. Those beautiful caramel locks hid her face in a screen that divided us. I gently reached out and touched her chin, guiding her face round to meet mine. She didn't resist me, so I just took it slowly, trying to gauge her reactions.

She bit her lip and let out the softest of moans, the sound reached inside me and twisted around my groin. Not now! Not yet! Not while her eyes where right there. I mentally started work on the twenty-seven times table as I guided her face higher. _One twenty-seven is twenty-seven. _Just before I could meet her eyes she gasped and wrenched her face from my hand. _Two twenty-sevens are fifty four_. I silently pleaded with her to stay as I reached out again and slowly brought her eyes up to mine. _Three twenty-sevens are…_

I was lost in pools of blue, the many flecks of colour blending with the darker ring around the edges of her irises. Her pupils were wide and it wasn't all down to the dim lighting. The flashes of desire I'd seen earlier were nothing compared to the barely suppressed burn that I saw in them now. I was physically unable to look away as she trembled very slightly under my fingers.

"Beautiful," I breathed, and she bit her lip again. I was drawn to her. All thoughts of simply talking had fled my mind in the face of the beast that had been woken inside of me. I fought to suppress it, _three twenty-sevens are eighty-one_, but I found myself leaning slowly down towards her, _four twenty-sevens are a hundred and eight,_ my eyes partially closing as I took in the scent of her hair. _Five twenty-sevens are… are a hundred and twenty, no, thirty five. _I could barely think as I slid my hand up her face, cupping her cheek. She seemed about to bolt.

"Please don't run," I whispered, so close to her lips that I felt the warmth of her breath on my face. _Six twenty-sevens are a hundred and… sixty… two. _The beast fought back and I tightened hard in my pants. No! _ Seven twenty-sevens are a hundred and eighty nine, eight twenty-sevens are two hundred and… Oh, fuck it..._

I leant down and kissed her.

She moaned against my lips, trembling under my touch, and I couldn't help but tangle my fingers in those gorgeous caramel locks and kiss her softly again. The intensity of the simple motion stole my breath and left me gasping. I had to regain control. _Eight twenty-sevens are two hundred and sixteen. _I held her face in my hands, completely unable to relinquish my touch on her. _Nine twenty-sevens are two hundred and forty three._ I couldn't get enough of the scent of her, and ran my nose down her cheek, drinking it in. _Ten twenty-sevens are two hundred and seventy._

I had to kiss her again, she was impossible to resist. The beast in me nipped at her lip, howling in delight as she opened hers slightly, letting me tentatively inside. _Eleven twenty-sevens are two hundred and ninety seven. _The soft uncertainty of the kiss brought concern into my mind. Did she want this? I wasn't forcing her, was I?

As abruptly as if a switch had been flicked, her uncertainty vanished. She kissed me back passionately, and her soft hands slid under my shirt, grabbing me and pulling me close to her body. My breath faltered as my mind raced to catch up. When I was finally able to take a breath, I wrapped my arms tightly around her and crushed her soft breasts to my chest. I desperately scrabbled for control. _Twelve twenty-sevens are… Twelve twenty-sevens are… Fuck... _The beast roared, and as I lost control, lyrics of one of my own songs came into my head.

…_I just need sweet release. Free, free, free, the beast. Let go the leash, and watch it eat. Said free, free, free, the beast…_

Oh, God, yeah! Free the fucking beast!

Her nails dug deliciously into my shoulders. Her small sounds of pleasure destroyed the last vestiges of my careful control and my pants grew uncomfortably tight. I broke away, breathless, and looked hungrily into her eyes. What I saw there nearly blew my mind, such wild passion that all rational thought halted. I lunged for the bathroom door, lifting her small frame, and stumbling through with her in my arms. I let her weight down gently to the floor as I struggled to lock the door behind me. I couldn't tear my eyes from hers.

As soon as the lock was home, I was devouring her. Kissing her neck, tasting her skin, leaning her back so I could follow her collar bone. I felt her hot breath in my hair and on my skin. I needed her, like an addict who had found a new high. I just wanted more, and more, and more.

Breathing heavily, I froze over the hollow at the base of her throat. What the FUCK was I doing? I'd just manhandled her into an airplane bathroom, and was mauling her with every intention of fucking her? What was I? Some kind of animal? The beast in me agreed wholeheartedly, and I crushed it back down. She shivered in my arms, and I finally came to my senses.

Lifting my eyes to meet hers, I started to say, "Sorry, I –"

She cut me off with a shake of her head and placed her fingers lightly on my lips. The look in her eyes would tolerate no arguments. I thought she whispered, "It's my dream." But I wasn't sure. When she gently lifted her fingers, I looked at her questioningly. In answer her eyes filled with hunger and desire that reached right inside me, twisted my guts, and filled my balls with hot fire. She smiled at the reaction of my body and ran the back of her hand over my cheek. Sliding it over my freshly shaven skin.

She purred. She actually fucking purred! Oh, God! I was going to rub my cheeks everywhere if she carried on making sounds like that. The beast bayed for more, and I buried my face in her neck, kissing a trail up towards her hair. I felt her fingers wind into my hair and I let the blissful sensations wash over me. As I went to kiss her ear, she shivered and squirmed away from me. Pressing her ear into her shoulder to keep me away.

"Sensitive, eh?" I growled, and went to nip at her again. She tried, ineffectually, to push me away and smothered her shriek by biting into my shoulder. Fuck! She was a bit of an animal herself, and that turned me on so badly. I held her for a moment, before I gave into the urge to pull her tight against me and press the heat of my erection into her stomach. When she rubbed against me, I thought I was in heaven, and then she pushed herself up on her toes and pulled me into a kiss, the friction as she slid up over me was divine.

I almost ripped her shirt in my efforts to get it out of the waistband of her skirt – I was so desperate to slide my hands over her body. The beast in me was slathering to be let loose, but I slowed down, trying to calm it, and gently ran my hands under the thin fabric and over her hot back. I couldn't help the soft moan against her lips that mingled with her own whimper of pleasure.

She pushed me away and pulled at the buttons on my shirt. Tantalisingly, trailing her fingers over my chest each time one came undone. I was so hard it hurt, and I felt each touch of her fingers as a jolt that tore through my body and only increased the exquisite pain. I sank against the door for support when she laid big, wet, open mouthed kisses across my chest and drew her nails gently down my sides. The beast in me was baying for her to press her nails in harder – much harder.

Her fiery touch skimmed along the V of muscle on my abdomen, lingering for a moment on the tattoo she hadn't looked at, but somehow knew was there. Oh, fuck, yeah! I felt my balls tighten in my pants.

_I'm lost…_

One of the 'lost boys' was currently right on the edge of losing it, and I had to pick up where I left off on the times tables. _Twelve twenty-sevens are… three hundred and twenty four. _I drew in a sharp breath and moved her hands, and her provocative touch, safely around to my back. _Thirteen twenty-sevens are three hundred and… THINK!... Fifty one._

I quickly undid the buttons on her shirt, letting the fabric hang so it barely exposed the skin underneath. She wore a simple white bra, with a deep plunge, that somehow seemed intensely erotic to me. I traced the edge of the fabric, feeling her breath stutter in her chest, and then I brazenly slipped the bra strap, and her shirt, off her shoulder. The crumpled fabric just revealed the very edge of her puckered pink areola. I let my palm brush over her tight peak as I scooped her breast from the confining fabric. It was warm and amazingly soft to the touch. There was no silicone core to this ample handful.

"Mmm, real," I murmured into her hair, as I traced my thumb across her taught nipple and felt it harden even more under my touch. My erection throbbed in my pants, and the beast within me desperately tried to break free. _Fourteen twenty-sevens are three hundred and… seventy… eight._

The look in her eyes took on a wicked edge that went straight to the heart of the beast within and had it howling with delight. She slid her hands around to the waistband of my pants, branding her hot touch across my stomach muscles. _OH, Fuck! Fifteen twenty-sevens are three hundred and ninety eight, plus seven is… four hundred and five._ I caught her hands again, halting them at the clasp of my pants. But this time she wouldn't be stopped, and she palmed me through the thin layers of cloth. The heat of her hand slid down over me and cupped my aching balls.

_Jesus fucking Christ! No! Yes! Fuck! Sixteen twenty-sevens are four hundred and thirty two._ I was so close to coming that it was embarrassing, but at least that embarrassment shamed the beast into retreating momentarily as I pleaded, "Not yet. It's too much, I –"

She cut me off with a kiss and ran her hand over me again. The friction was divine and I moaned against her mouth, distracted for a moment from the kiss. _Seventeen twenty-sevens are four hundred and fifty nine._ I was powerless to stop her as she I unhooked the clasp on my pants and, exquisitely, slowly, lowered the zipper. _Eighteen twenty-sevens are four hundred and seventy… eighty six._ The anticipation I was feeling held me rigid as her fingers slid under the waistband of my boxers. _Nineteen twenty-sevens are four hundred and… five hundred and… six plus seven… Fuck! Hold it together… is... are… thirteen._

Her hand closed over me and eased me from the hot confines of my pants.

_Oh, Fuck…_

The beast inside of me was writhing in ecstasy. Baying for more. Groaning passionately.

_Oh, Yes…_

My knees buckled and I grabbed the walls for support, smacking my head against the door, as her fingers softly, and far too gently, ran the full length of me and spread the pre-cum over the oversensitive head of my erection.

_Oh, God…_

I closed my eyes, fighting the sensations she caused to flood through my body. _Twenty twenty-sevens are five hundred and… _

"Fuck!" I muttered as her hot tongue lapped over and around me, probing my slit, and then trailing down to take in my balls.

_Oh, FUCK, YES! Jesus fucking Christ! Damn that's so fucking good!_

Forget the beast – I was the one writhing in ecstasy, trying my hardest not to groan passionately. She wrapped her hot mouth around me and drew me in, right up against her throat. I screwed up my eyes against the sight I knew was there. If I just looked down, I would see those caramel curls, the ones I so wanted to dig my hands into, bobbing over me. Her gentle touch was driving me to distraction, as the beast bayed for more, harder, tighter, deeper.

Giving in, I opened my eyes. The feel of her soft curls against my thighs was too much to resist. I dug my fingers into her luxurious locks, silky soft against my skin, and fought the urge to thrust back hard. My restraint was failing, the tightening in the pit of my stomach overwhelming, and I moved with her as she wound her tongue around me.

"I'm… Uunnngh!" I just managed to force the words out, to give her time to pull away. But she sucked me deeper, and I tightened my fingers in her hair. I gave in to the beast, and thrust deep, trying, impossibly, to keep quiet as my release ripped through me. She swallowed! God, this woman was so, so… Hot!

When my breath steadied, I looked down into her wickedly sparkling blue eyes. She wasn't finished with me yet, and I sure as hell wasn't finished with her. I pulled her up, crushing her warm, naked chest into mine.

"Thank you," I said softly, pulling her into a deep kiss, delighting in my own taste on her tongue. That was such a turn on, always such a turn on. Despite being spent, I wanted to relish her body so much more. I ran my hand up her thigh, enjoying the silky texture of her tights, and stopped as the texture turned to lace. Stockings, she was wearing lace topped stockings! My fingers brushed against warm, bare skin and the beast in me woke up again, slathering for more. Always more.

"Good God, woman. Are you trying to kill me?" I said roughly, as I quickly pulled her skirt up over her hips. Red lace panties! Under a business suit! Shit, if her clients knew that, I bet they wouldn't have been able to concentrate at all – I know I wouldn't have. I lifted her onto the narrow sink and pressed her against the large mirror, as I moved to stand between her legs. I caught a glimpse of slight, pale silvery stretch marks, almost hidden by red lace. Red lace. Red. Lace. I just couldn't get that out my head. The beast inside me wanted those red lace panties, and wanted them bad.

My thumbs trailed over her stockings, following the tantalising border between lace and soft skin that circled her thighs. Her muscles trembled under my touch, and I lingered on her inner thigh. A small whimper escaped her lips, and then she grabbed me and pulled me into another intoxicating kiss. My arms encircled her and crushed her tightly against my virtually naked body. I felt the warm dampness of that _red lace_ press against my pubic bone, stirring me up, revitalising my flaccid penis. She was working some kind of magic on me.

Nails dug deeply into my shoulders and began their burning trail down my back. OH, FUCK YES! The beast was in heaven. I was in heaven. I shuddered at the delicious sensation, and then cursed inwardly when she stopped and balled her hands against my back. I broke the kiss and buried my face in her hair, trying to collect myself.

"You can. If you want to," I breathed. Oh, God, please let her want to. I kissed that sweet juncture between her neck and shoulder, fighting the urge to bite her beautiful and unmarred skin.

"You can mark me, if you like," I growled, then pulled her back into a wildly passionate kiss.

Her fists unclenched and she lay her hands gently back on my shoulders, but she felt tense and self-conscious in my embrace. I ran my thumb along the edge of that wonderfully damp red lace, lifting it out of the way and stroking gently over her with my fingers. She shuddered against me, curling her fingernails into my skin. The beast howled and writhed with anticipation.

I pushed one long finger slowly inside her and had to swallow her moan with a kiss. I as I pulled out, I felt her body tense deliciously. When I slid a second finger in deep she arched against me with a small mew of pleasure, dug her nails in deep, and dragged them, searing, over the length of my back and ass. FUCK YES! The beast in me rejoiced, roaring out its pleasure.

I held her hungrily to my body as I plunged my fingers in again, twisting and curling them to reach that elusive spot that would have her melting in my hands. The sounds she made were ambrosia for the soul. They revived me and had me aching for her, but I didn't want it to be over too soon, so I decided to return the favour she'd paid me.

"My turn now," I said roughly and reached for her red lace panties, ripping the seams and tearing them from her body. Fighting the impulse to tuck them into my pocket, I dropped them to the floor and slid down over her to rub my cheeks against her thighs. She was damn near purring again. I ran my tongue across her creamy skin, dipping under the lace of her stockings, before following the most sensitive part of her inner thigh, right up to the moist juncture I could no longer force myself to avoid.

She moaned loudly, cutting herself off when she became aware of the sound. Oh, Jesus. I _so_ had to get her somewhere she didn't have to be quiet. I could live off of that sound alone. I put all my efforts into getting her to crack, to lose control again, but she kept her voice restrained even as her body trembled and shuddered beneath my lips and my touch.

I tucked my free hand under the cloth of her bunched up skirt, and splayed my fingers out across the skin of the small of her back, pulling her tight against my mouth. I sucked hard, working her engorged clit, and drove my fingers into that swollen, magical, spot that would be her undoing. With a deep breathy moan, that she couldn't quite suppress, she finally surrendered to me and found her release.

I held her securely while the shudders wracked through her whole body. Her quiet mews of pleasure going straight to my core and feeding the beast within. When she finally calmed, I stood slowly, fighting the urge to just drive into her. Her sparkling blue eyes held mine as her fingers laced through my hair, trailed down to the nape of my neck, and then ran deliciously along my jaw, stopping on my chin. The invitation was implicit in her eyes, as she gently pulled me towards her and into a soft kiss. I could still taste myself on her tongue, but now it mingled with her own flavour. The taste of sex.

I felt her heat and moisture pressing against me and I surged against her. The compulsion to bury myself balls deep inside her was almost impossible to resist. "Please," I pleaded softly, and crushed her tight against my body, slowly losing the fight with the slathering beast inside of me. Her soft moan almost drove me over the edge and into sweet oblivion.

"Protection?" she asked quietly, with an edge of desperation.

What? Oh, shit. Of course! Even the beast inside me quailed at the thought of having to stop right now.

"Oh, fuck!" I groaned, realising that I hadn't come prepared. The thought hadn't crossed my mind. I couldn't even remember if I still had one, _in case of_ _emergency,_ tucked inside my wallet. It was such a _teenager_ thing to do, and I'd left those years behind long ago. If I did have one, I wasn't sure if it was even usable. Well, this certainly classed as an emergency, so I grabbed my pants and searched frantically for my wallet.

The worn leather was marked with the scars of time, including the circle that might just save my life. I ripped it open, inadvertently tearing the ancient stitching, and pulled the battered package out. Oh Christ! Please let it still be usable! I quickly checked for damage and saw that it was whole, and still in date, just. With immense relief, I tore into the foil and quickly rolled the rubber down over me. With every ounce of restrain I possessed, I stopped myself with my very tip resting against her hot folds.

"Sure?" I asked. Desperate for her to say, yes, and terrified that she'd say, no.

"Shut up and fuck me!" she said with her voice rough with emotion. She dug her nails into my hips and pulled me deeply into her. OH, FUCK, YES! I closed my eyes, relishing the sensations. Her tight heat clothed the length of me, and the beast within me crowed in elation. Her soft groan of pleasure was enough to entice me to open my eyes again. The look of intense ecstasy on her face was at complete odds to the tears that ran silently down her cheeks.

I held still, suddenly afraid I was hurting her. But her hands held me firmly, pulling me closer, instead of pushing me away. I kissed her tears and tasted their salt on my lips – what _had_ she been through to cause these tears? Gently, I rocked against her, moving carefully as she slid her hands round to cup my ass. Pulling out slowly, I fought the compulsion to give in to the beast. To just succumb to the lust and simply fuck.

She took the decision firmly out of my hands and into hers. Gripping my ass tightly, she slammed me back into her, eliciting a deep growl of ecstasy. I snapped and gave into the beast, pounding into her. The sounds she tried to muffle against my shoulder, only fed the overwhelming lust, and I lost myself in the moment.

Cracking my eyes open, I caught a glimpse of caramel curls in the mirror. They bounced every time I reached the apex of my thrust, and I found myself plunging in harder, and deeper, just to watch them jounce. When I met my own reflection, I stopped moving, barely recognising the sex crazed creature in the mirror with his face pressed into a mane of caramel curls. Suddenly, I _had_ to see her like that. I _had_ to watch her in the mirror as I drove into her.

"I need… I need to see you. Turn around!" I said frantically.

I pulled away from her, lifted her down and turned her to face the mirror. The image I saw there was everything I hoped it would be, and it would only get better. I drank in her scent, the smell of sex mixed with the subtle aroma of her shampoo, and kissed the exposed flesh of her shoulder. Running my hand down her leg, I cupped the back of her knee and lifted it high, hooking her leg over my wrist as I grabbed the edge of the sink for support.

My gaze locked onto her face as I drove in again, sheathing myself even deeper at this new angle. A look of pure carnal bliss spread across her face, and her head dropped back against my shoulder. I moved within her, watching in the mirror as she whimpered and gasped. The beast within me was in heaven. Shit! I was in heaven, totally unexpected as it was.

"Open your eyes," I breathed into her ear, causing a shiver to run through her body. Slowly, she opened those amazing blue eyes and met mine as I pushed deeply inside her. Her hair hung in sweat darkened ringlets, her eyes were dark with sexual hunger, and her lips slightly parted as a soft moan escaped them. It was pure animal sex, total lust, and completely erotic. It was not an image I would forget in a hurry, but one that I intended to remember for a very long time.

I pressed my face into her hair, keeping my eyes on hers, and I thrust in again. She grabbed my hand and held it tightly over her mouth, attempting to curb the delicious noises she made. This was too much! I gave myself over to the beast, held her tightly, and revelled in the sounds of her pleasure.

I was so close, but I wanted to feel her come and pulse around me. "Rub yourself," I moaned against her, spelling out my fantasy. "Look at me and rub yourself."

I watched her watching me, as she released my hand and trailed her fingers down her body. When her hand disappeared out of sight I felt her finger-tips gliding over me as I pounded into her. The combined sensations were heady and nearly pushed me over too soon. I struggled to contain myself.

"Oh, God! You, not me," I pleaded, as my legs began to shake. She moved her fingers away from me and I felt her rubbing circles just above me. The movements becoming wilder as she slowly lost control.

I held her tightly, stifling her moans, and supporting her body as she came with great spasms that shuddered through her and massaged my length. I took the beautiful, unmarred, flesh of her shoulder into my mouth and held it there to muffle my sounds as I cried out my pleasure. I finally let go, and the beast was roaring and howling as my climax ripped through me. Ultimately, unable to resist the beast within me, I bit down, hard, marking her as mine – if only for this moment. Our guttural sounds combined, and all hope at remaining silent was completely lost.

My legs were shaking dangerously, so I pulled us both down onto the closed toilet seat. I was nowhere near ready to relinquish our closeness, wanting to stay inside her for as long as possible. I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my forehead in between her shoulders, burying my face in her hair. She was shaking so hard that she had to lean forwards and hold my knees tightly for balance.

I was drained, totally fucked – in the truest depiction of that phrase I could imagine. I was completely satiated, but, in a not so quiet corner of my mind, the beast was imagining what it would be like to take her somewhere with a bed and no neighbours; somewhere that she could scream and shout, and moan and gasp, without having to restrain her voice.

Eventually, she pulled herself, shakily, off my lap. I quickly wrapped and discarded the used rubber and then rest my head on her back and stroked her thigh. My hand glided over soft skin, lace, and silky stockings. The textures alone were making me wish for more. Oh! If only I had the energy, and another rubber, and a bed – a bed would be really good. I closed my eyes and let those thoughts run for a bit.

"Thank you," I murmured against her skin. The words seemed totally inadequate.

She ran some water into the tiny sink and freshened herself up, wiping away the sweat and the evidence of sex. When I moved away from her, she shivered. I tried to meet her eyes in the mirror, but she was avoiding me, almost as if I wasn't really there.

She dressed and straightened her clothes, as I pulled up my pants and stood behind her. Then ran her fingers through her beautifully wild hair. The sweaty ringlets had dried, and, in my eyes, she looked divine.

"Beautiful," I whispered into those wild ringlets, making her jump and finally meet my eyes. Her cheeks flushed and she looked away again quickly. Her eyes searched the floor, and then she bent and picked up the remains of her red lace panties. I watched as she balled them up and moved her hand towards the trash. The once wild beast in me whimpered, so I gently took the fabric from her, and tucked it into my pants pocket.

"Just so I know it was real," I said quietly, wistfully, sad that the moment was so nearly passed. Those words animated her, and she met my gaze in the mirror, laughing softly.

"Oh, but it's not. There's no way this could be anything but a particularly amazing and vivid dream. Thank you, Jasper. That was breathtaking."

I stood, stunned, as she turned and kissed me gently one last time.

"I will be dreaming of you again," she whispered against my lips. Tears were forming in her eyes as she turned quickly and let herself out of the small compartment.

The door shut softly behind her, and I slid the bolt across quietly. I needed time to figure out what had just happened. I pulled the crumpled fabric out of my pocket and held it in my hands. It was warm and damp and real. She'd thought it was a dream – that what we had just shared was fantasy. Part of me was hurt that she hadn't thought of me as real, and part was flattered that I'd so completely lived up to her dreams. I folded the red lace and tucked it back into my pocket. Proof, irrefutable proof, that it wasn't a dream.

I tidied myself up and wiped the distinctive smell of sex from my body. I gathered my discarded shirt and twisted to look in the mirror before I put it back on. I couldn't help but smile. The red welts ran the length of my back and disappeared into the top of my pants. My mystery woman was a dark horse, wild and passionate. The smile dropped from my face as I realised she was still a mystery; I hadn't even asked her name.

I slipped out of the bathroom and walked slowly past her seat. If she was awake I could ask her, but she wasn't. She slept with a small smile on her face, relaxed and peaceful, as if she'd just had a very pleasant dream. I ran my hand over my face, trying to wipe away the disappointment, then rashly bent and kissed her hair as she slept. "It was real," I whispered softly, then walked slowly back to the stairs.

"Her name is Esme Platt," a low voice said as I passed the galley. "You should know that so she doesn't just become one of your nameless, faceless conquests," the stewardess said in a hard, disapproving voice.

"She'll never be that, but thank you all the same, ma'am." I waited for the tirade, or the offer to take me to the nearest bathroom for a comparison. When it never came, I looked up at the woman who'd spoken. She looked sad and resigned.

"I didn't think so, you kissed her too tenderly for that, and now I can't hate you for not choosing me."

"I'm not like that, ma'am, and neither is she," I said, slightly affronted. I didn't sleep around. I had more respect than that. It wasn't a good career move either, better men than I, had been shot down by kiss and tell stories.

"No, I guess not. Sorry, no offence meant," she apologised.

"Funny way to not offend someone," I said slightly sarcastically.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe. It's all part of the job description when you're working up this end of the plane. I value my job too much to risk losing it."

"Thank you," I said carefully, and then headed down the stairs. I didn't quite know what to make of the encounter. She obviously knew what had happened, nearly hit on me herself, and then apologised. I shook my head, confused.

The downstairs cabins were dark and quiet. Emmett and Jacob's snores filled the first class cabin, but Carlisle stirred as I slipped back into my bed quietly. My back stung as I lay down, but I didn't move, relishing the sensation and the memories it brought as I drifted off to sleep.

~o~

"Wake up, sleeping beauty!" Emmett's distinctive tones cut into my dreams. "Come on! It's breakfast, or lunch, depending on what time zone your stomach thinks it's in."

I opened my eyes slowly, focusing on the great oaf standing over me. "Fuck off, I'm tired," I mumbled, and then rolled onto my side, turning my back.

"Sleep is for wusses!" Jacob called across the cabin. I pulled the thin pillow over my head.

"Anyone would think you were up half the night!" Carlisle said sarcastically, and I gave up and turned to look at him. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say another word. Had I been found out?

Breakfast was a boisterous affair. There was much chat and banter about our impending arrival in England. We wondered what kind of crowd it would be. There were always varying levels of frenzy; screamers, fainters, marriage proposals and declarations of undying love.

I wanted to go upstairs and speak to Esme before we landed, but I couldn't slip away. Fate conspired against me and the moment it became calm enough to think of leaving, the captain announced our early arrival at Heathrow airport and I had to sit back down.

We left the plane ahead of the crowds and made it to passport control while the queues were still short. I caught a glimpse of Esme through the crowds and she met my eyes, but quickly looked away. She didn't look again.

I pulled out my phone and looked at it for a moment. Should I? Shouldn't I? "It WAS real." I typed out and then stood for a long time with my thumb over the send button. Jacob was horsing around and bumped into me, making me nudge the touch screen and send the text. I guessed fate had taken the decision out of my hands yet again. I looked up again but she was gone, the short queue having moved on.

We headed straight for arrivals – the cars were waiting and our bags would be picked up for us. The screaming started as soon as we stepped through the doors. We made our way out slowly, shaking hands and signing papers, t-shirts, and even the occasional body part. They were a good crowd, not too much excessive fanaticism. Edward escaped unmolested, but Jacob got felt up and had to move quickly on. If a strange man walked up to a woman and grabbed her crotch, he'd be arrested for assault, but if a strange woman walked up to a film star and grabbed his crotch, then they thought it was fair game. How twisted was that?

We made it into the car and shut the door, muffling the sound. I sank back into the seat as we pulled away and headed for our hotel. Another, in a seemingly endless round of buildings that could almost have been anywhere. Same shit, different day.

"Right, we've got a few of hours to ourselves, and then we've got our first meeting at four this afternoon," said Carlisle after looking at our itinerary for this visit. At least I'd have time for a shower and change.

A couple of hours later I stepped from the shower feeling clean and much more awake. I wrapped a towel around my waist and rubbed my hair dry. The slight stubble could stay, I had time to grow it for a while before I had to shave it all off again.

"Jazz! Are you decent?" called Emmett, as he burst in anyway.

"No, I'm not! How the hell did you get in?" I accused.

"Umm, can't have been shut properly?" he said contritely.

I leant against the bathroom door frame, conscious that he stood between me and my clothes, and Emmett, being Emmett, would rip the shit out of me if he saw the state of my back.

"So?" I asked impatiently.

"So! We got the fucking contract! We're all signed up for the modelling gig. They want _all_ of us flashing our abs in the latest Calvin Klein's," he said excitedly.

"Great! When?" I asked. Sincerely hoping that the marks on my back would have time to fade.

"Tomorrow!"

Oh, Fuck!

* * *

><p><strong>That's all folks!<strong>

****Review? **Should I carry on?**


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